This morning looked full of promise – several banks of textured clouds up off the horizon waiting to reflect sunrise colors. I got up to the field and sat on the hillside waiting for the right combination of light and color.
It was absolutely still and quiet.
Over the last weeks, I have noticed how the hot and dry summer have pressured my beautiful cottonwoods causing them to litter the grass below with a sparse blanket of leaves almost like the early beginnings of fall.
As I sat on that hill, I could hear the leaves break off of the branches and jostle other leaves as they fell to the ground. It was unlike the major rustling of leaves that you hear when fall is in full force, but the magical sound of one leaf at a time, over there and then over here and the gentle swish as it joined the other leaves on the ground.
Soon enough, the bustle of traffic gearing up for the weekend recreation ramped up and these gentle sounds were lost in the ripple of time.