Too soon

The past few days have been crisp and cool, a tease of early autumn. Walking through the Arboretum in the weeks before, in the grip of a not-yet-over drought, there seemed to be more color to the foliage, enhanced textures, more than I would expect to see in barely mid-September in Boston.

I’m not a scientist so when I walk, especially with my camera, I tend to see the world with artists’ eyes. The slow shift from a world of green to one of subtle multi-colors unveils yet another delight to take in. And yet I can’t help but feel that at least some of the color and texture of changing foliage results from thirst, from the drought, from pain.

The lesson I choose to take from this, one I try to find as often as I can to keep myself on an even keel, is this: We can choose to see beauty in these distressed leaves just as readily as in a blooming rose. It can come from joy or from suffering. What matters is how we choose to focus our attention.