I have loved photographing leaves in the fall for many years. Sycamore leaves have been a favorite because the fallen ones develop so many colors before they die completely. So I thought to share this photo and one of the thoughts that inspired it:
Past even wondrous flowers – past white and red,
Past the streaked poison petal, strange of name,
Past cups and hanging bells, past wild or tame
Sun-yellow, past bright blue that goes to bed –-
Past all of these with whom delight has wed
Since the first dawn moved any to exclaim,
Earth's kingdom loves its leaves that are the same
Green ever as forever they are fed.
Leaves, [1st of two stanzas]
by Mark Van Doren
From Spring Birth and Other Poems, 1953, pg.405
