Every fall, Indiana University Bloomington becomes a living artwork of autumn foliage. Walking around campus on a sunny day is an experience to cherish. Light richochets around leaves in gradients from emerald to crimson. As you move about light rays would peek through the stalks or shine back at you around leaves floating on water. It is like stepping into a painting, only one that is less edited, multi-dimensional, and interactive.
Walking through the woods on campus you hear leaves crackle like laughter made of paper. For all the talks of fallen leaves, many of them seem intent on flying. With the right winds they wrestle free of stalks, swirl in air multi-storey high, and glide through many yards before finding a new resting place. Other leaves plunged before wind could fetch them, one of them stalk first into purple aster, wings fluttering in the wind, like a Monarch butterfly on golden marigold on the Day of the Dead. If you pause for a few more minutes you might see a squirrel choke on their snack as a fallen leaf brushed its feet, offended, as if this was the tenth time nature had done it today.
The world works so hard to astonish us, and we so rarely notice. Rather than ability, time is an entry barrier to this quiessential part of humanity. I am clearly privileged because I could take 2 hours just taking these in and writing something down, but how many people hurry through their lives without ever able to slow down to observe? How many people stare into these golden hues like it is an abyss or the scintillating light like it is a joke on the darkness in their lives? I wonder how much it would cost to give an hour to everyone, our opportunity costs aside, to see our surroundings as the beauty they are.
Written by Natasha. Last edited:2025-11-03 13:04:01