{"id":58070,"title":"When the Paths Turn Gold","description":"An Autumn Entry from the Greengatherer\u2019s Journal I found the first leaf this morning.  Not the first to fall. There have been others, loosened by wind or rain before their time","content":"

An Autumn Entry from the Greengatherer\u2019s Journal<\/strong><\/p>

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I found the first leaf this morning.<\/p>

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Not the first to fall. There have been others, loosened by wind or rain before their time.<\/p>

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This one was different.<\/p>

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It lay in the middle of a familiar path, yellow at its edges and still green along the veins.<\/p>

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Autumn had begun.<\/p>

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I picked it up and carried it with me for a while.<\/p>

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Around me, the woodland had not yet surrendered its summer colours. The canopy was still thick. Ferns crowded the path. Sunlight reached the ground only where the branches allowed it.<\/p>

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But once I had seen that leaf, I began to notice other things.<\/p>

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Acorns beneath the oaks.<\/p>

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Berries darkening in the hedgerows.<\/p>

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The smell of damp earth lingering longer after rain.<\/p>

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And somewhere above me, hidden among the branches, a robin singing as though none of this concerned him at all.<\/p>

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Perhaps it doesn't.<\/p>

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The Turning Woods<\/strong><\/p>

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I have learnt not to look for autumn everywhere at once.<\/p>

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It doesn't work that way.<\/p>

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One tree may turn gold while its neighbour remains green.<\/p>

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A morning can carry the chill of October and be followed by an afternoon that remembers August.<\/p>

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The season moves unevenly across the peninsula.<\/p>

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Through woodland.<\/p>

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Along hedgerows.<\/p>

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Across parks and gardens.<\/p>

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Down towards the shores where the wind notices the change before almost anyone else.<\/p>

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The Treefolk know, of course.<\/p>

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They always do.<\/p>

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I passed one of the old ones today.<\/p>

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To anyone else, there would have been nothing unusual to see: an ancient tree standing where it has stood through more autumns than I could count.<\/p>

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But one branch had lowered towards the path.<\/p>

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Only slightly.<\/p>

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And among its leaves, green was giving way to gold.<\/p>

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I placed my hand against the bark.<\/p>

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There was no message.<\/p>

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There didn't need to be.<\/p>

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What the Trees Keep<\/strong><\/p>

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People sometimes think autumn is a season of losing things.<\/p>

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Leaves.<\/p>

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Light.<\/p>

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Warmth.<\/p>

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Perhaps that is because fallen things are easier to see.<\/p>

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The Treefolk have taught me otherwise.<\/p>

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What falls is not always lost.<\/p>

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Leaves settle into the ground.<\/p>

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Seeds travel.<\/p>

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Acorns disappear beneath leaves and into small, determined paws.<\/p>

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The woodland changes what it carries.<\/p>

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That is different from becoming empty.<\/p>

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I left the path and climbed towards higher ground.<\/p>

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From there, the Dee caught the afternoon light.<\/p>

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The water was bright, but the sun sat lower than it had a few weeks before. Long shadows stretched across the grass behind me.<\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

Somewhere below, a child laughed.<\/p>

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Then another voice.<\/p>

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Then silence again.<\/p>

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The sound carried surprisingly far.<\/p>

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I wondered how many autumns begin like this.<\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

Not with a date on a calendar.<\/p>

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Not with every tree suddenly turning gold.<\/p>

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But with somebody stopping because one small thing has changed.<\/p>

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A Leaf for the Journal<\/strong><\/p>

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By the time I returned, the leaf in my pocket had curled at its edges.<\/p>

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I have placed it between these pages.<\/p>

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It will lose its colour eventually.<\/p>

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That is all right.<\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

I don't keep these things so they remain unchanged.<\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

I keep them so I remember where I was when I noticed them.<\/p>

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Tomorrow there may be another yellow leaf on the path.<\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

Next week, perhaps a hundred.<\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

Soon the woods will crunch beneath passing feet and the branches will begin showing more sky between them.<\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

There will be colder mornings.<\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

Earlier evenings.<\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

Mist over fields.<\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

And eventually the first signs of winter.<\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

But not yet.<\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

Today there was one yellow leaf.<\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

For the beginning of autumn, that was enough.<\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

\u2014 The Greengatherer<\/strong><\/p>","urlTitle":"when-the-paths-turn-gold","url":"\/blog\/when-the-paths-turn-gold\/","editListUrl":"\/my-blogs","editUrl":"\/my-blogs\/edit\/when-the-paths-turn-gold\/","fullUrl":"https:\/\/beastlyboroughs.com\/blog\/when-the-paths-turn-gold\/","featured":false,"published":true,"showOnSitemap":true,"hidden":false,"visibility":null,"createdAt":1788210843,"updatedAt":1788211006,"publishedAt":1788211006,"lastReadAt":null,"division":{"id":405864,"name":"Beastly Boroughs"},"tags":[{"id":4548,"code":"the-green-gatherersjournal","name":"TheGreenGatherersjournal","url":"\/blog\/tagged\/the-green-gatherersjournal\/"}],"metaImage":{"original":"https:\/\/images.podos.io\/ng8cvstmcvh2ukkm0fe6idknuj8ezmoqs8tfcbn6psv1rik7.jpeg","thumbnail":"https:\/\/images.podos.io\/ng8cvstmcvh2ukkm0fe6idknuj8ezmoqs8tfcbn6psv1rik7.jpeg.jpg?w=1140&h=855","banner":"https:\/\/images.podos.io\/ng8cvstmcvh2ukkm0fe6idknuj8ezmoqs8tfcbn6psv1rik7.jpeg.jpg?w=1920&h=1440"},"metaTitle":"","metaDescription":"","keyPhraseCampaignId":null,"series":[],"similarReads":[{"id":55964,"title":"Meet the Greengatherer \u2014 Walking the Peninsula","url":"\/blog\/meet-the-greengatherer-walking-the-peninsula\/","urlTitle":"meet-the-greengatherer-walking-the-peninsula","division":405864,"description":"When the wind turns from the sea and the light begins to change, I find myself walking again.  The air carries salt and leaf together. Grass shifts","published":true,"metaImage":{"thumbnail":"https:\/\/images.podos.io\/urqfwx4ql0sc1n4eeik3ecnqfumjhvcnipn7uf858juezvx3.jpeg.jpg?w=1140&h=855","banner":"https:\/\/images.podos.io\/urqfwx4ql0sc1n4eeik3ecnqfumjhvcnipn7uf858juezvx3.jpeg.jpg?w=1920&h=1440"},"hidden":0},{"id":55966,"title":"When the Roots Begin to Stir","url":"\/blog\/when-the-roots-begin-to-stir\/","urlTitle":"when-the-roots-begin-to-stir","division":405864,"description":"A Spring Entry from the Greengatherer\u2019s Journal The frost has loosened its hold.  I felt it first beneath my feet.  The ground no longer hums with winter\u2019s stillness; instead, there is a quiet stirring below \u2014 a slow unfurling","published":true,"metaImage":{"thumbnail":"https:\/\/images.podos.io\/vjxlm0ulpn2hrseew7evoktbhzbe7xhin9nqhdivzxhv3arb.jpeg.jpg?w=1140&h=855","banner":"https:\/\/images.podos.io\/vjxlm0ulpn2hrseew7evoktbhzbe7xhin9nqhdivzxhv3arb.jpeg.jpg?w=1920&h=1440"},"hidden":0},{"id":55982,"title":"Beba, The Beech-Tree of Bebington","url":"\/blog\/beba-the-beech-tree-of-bebington\/","urlTitle":"beba-the-beech-tree-of-bebington","division":405864,"description":"Morning comes quietly here.  Before the village has fully stirred, before gates open and paths grow busy, light lifts across the grass \u2014 and Beba stands within it, steady and unchanged.  Her bark carries the soft silver of beechwood \u2014 smooth, almost luminous in the cool air","published":true,"metaImage":{"thumbnail":"https:\/\/images.podos.io\/keqxqwh89nnuolssafm6yohmfazhw8q1tgqnz5nisgwkdpqq.jpeg.jpg?w=1140&h=855","banner":"https:\/\/images.podos.io\/keqxqwh89nnuolssafm6yohmfazhw8q1tgqnz5nisgwkdpqq.jpeg.jpg?w=1920&h=1440"},"hidden":0}],"labels":[]}