pieces of fall through my lens
crunch, crinkle, crunch, crunch,
her decade-long companion cowboy boots along for the excursion,
she stoops to gather one of each color
(brick red, goldenrod, carrot, sunset)
and tucks them into the bigger than her hand pocket of her grandfather's brown cardigan.
she pauses at a pile in the middle of the park.
twirls once to check for onlookers,
and finds herself crosslegged with a smile.
breathing deeply, she rests in the knowledge:
autumn is her spring.
each season, i am creating a limited edition necklace that honors the colors, smells, textures of that season. the necklace is paired with a poem and a word (the poem's title) that shares a sliver of one moment in that season. (read more about the origins of this series here.)
today, i am introducing begin: a necklace inspired by one girl's walk in a park along puget sound on a day when she could almost hear the leaves as they turned away from green and began to dance with color.