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The Magic of Falling Leaves

This stream in the Smoky's has long been a family favorite

 

There is something enchanting, magical even, about falling leaves. They don’t just flutter to the ground, they dance and whirl, as if enjoying their freedom. Even when they land they aren’t content to lie still, they take flight again in a gust of wind or in the wake of a speeding car. I could watch this ballet for hours, except you never know where the next show will be.

I recently spent a weekend chasing fall around Western North Carolina and while the colors weren’t as vibrant as what I’ve seen in the past, there was a different beauty to the landscape. Perhaps spending my whole life in Florida with little to no fall color that made this trip so spellbinding; maybe it was the much needed reprieve from the stifling heat; or maybe it was taking the time to see the world from a different perspective.

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As I watch my photos from this trip slip through the screensaver on my computer, I’m struck by the thought that fall is a chance for God to show us what a master artist He is. There is the side of a mountain with red, yellow, and orange spattered among the deep green of the pines and spruce. There are the fallen leaves, some brown, some still golden, that found a resting place on a moss covered rock in the rushing rapids of a clear stream. In the front yard, red and pink roses are still blooming in front of trees that are changing color daily.

Back in Florida, I can immerse myself in the photos and videos from this trip and find inspiration. There is so much beauty in the world, sometimes we just have to take time to change our perspective.

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