Indifferent beauty

The Fall colors are out in their riotous glory!

They don’t know. They don’t care.  They just are.

It would be easy to personify the trees and impute some intent on their part. I know that’s ridiculous. Trees only think in Oz and Hogwarts. But I can wish it weren’t so.

I could believe that the trees are crying out against the impending loss of their foliage, their incipient nakedness. Or perhaps giving the world the arboreal version of the finger – see what I can do when I try? Take that!

The truth is more pedestrian, I suppose. The trees aren’t doing this of their own volition.

They don’t know. They don’t care. The colors just come.

And I get to watch!