Fall is slowly but surely pushing its way through the thick, humid wall of summer. It has become progressively colder here as the weeks drift by. But it wasn't until this morning that I really realized that fall may finally be bursting out, much like a butterfly from a cocoon.
There is an oak tree right outside my window, and I love to peer through its green canopy into the surrounding area. This morning as I absently gazed out, I noticed something different. It didn't hit me right away, but eventually it dawned on me that the branch I was staring at was not a lush, waxy green. Rather it was a bleached-out tangerine with tips of flourescent yellow. It is as if that one branch decided to rebel and pretty soon I know it will spread like wildfire. Falling into the comfort of conformity, most every leaf here will join in this new fad. Eventually they will follow their friends in suicidal ecstacy as they tumble toward the harsh, cold ground. They will all be trampled, their cause long forgotten, save by the few--the very few--those who are still young enough (whether by age or by the heart) to remember the beauty of that free spirit. And I was here to witness the beginning of this rebellion.