I stubled upon these these aspen leaves gathered in a quiet pocket of Lake Creek while wandering the trails outside of Twin Lakes, Colorado.

‍

It was the middle of autumn, and the leaves were in different stages of transition, moving from bright green to yellow, then into deep eggplant purple. By then, they had let go and entered the water. Some drifted downstream. Others caught between rocks. These five ended up together. At first, they were simply fallen leaves.

‍

Then I started noticing how different they were. Not just in color, but in character. Each carried its own unique scars and signs of decay. They came from the same forest, but each one was in a different stage of transition.

‍

Nature rarely changes all at once. It shifts gradually and cyclically. Everything changes in its own time, at its own pace. These leaves felt connected, but separate. Familiar, but individual. For a brief moment, the current brought them together before passing them downstream for the next stage of their journey.

‍