Fall is finally falling, and the colors this morning were beautiful. On my constitutional, I found myself walking along behind a couple of women. All of a sudden, one of them stopped and exclaimed over a leaf on the ground. It wasn’t this leaf, but one just about like it. Dead in her tracks, exclaiming, oh my god look at this leaf. 

I walked around quickly, not waiting to hear how her companion reacted to this sudden gush of enthusiasm. The incident reminded me vividly of my mom, who was wont to form instant, dramatic attachments to people or things that most people would have ignored. These passions were certainly embarrassing to the young me, and I think to others… Mom’s attentions could be smothering, and could derail just about any other social or commercial interaction that was supposed to be going on in the vicinity… everyone within reach was pulled in, willing or not. Nobody ever doubted that she did care deeply about these things, these causes, these circumstances, but I think many questioned or outright disagreed with her prioritization of this over that, them over us. 

All of which got me to thinking about autumn leaves in general… Looking at them is a big industry around here, but always in the aggregate: by the treeful,  or at a hillside full of contrasting colors, or a sweeping view across the valley. But there’s no question that an individual colored leaf is a remarkable thing, and I suppose completely unique in the world. In elementary school, we learned about the beauty of an individual snowflake thanks to the photos of Wilson Bentley, who it turns out was a Vermonter, but I never got that same appreciation for leaves. 

 How much wonder and curatorial attention does each leaf deserve? Each snowflake? Each person, each moment in each person’s life, each unfairness trapped in a moment in a life? The meditators and yogis and free-your-inner-child advocates would certainly argue that the correct answer is always “more”… more living in the moment, more sense of wonder, more, more, more.

But for me, having grown up around a lot of that kind of “more”? Trillions of trees, and so even more leaves. 7 billion people, each with so many untold stories. It’s important to remember how big the world is, and how marvelous, but so easy to get lost in that leaf, that unsolvable or unknowable thing. For me, while I appreciate the importance of recognizing all the untraveled roads and uncelebrated passages out there, it’s probably better to get on one road, enjoy its celebratory moments, and keep walking.