After The Leaves Fell…

Every morning I wake up at 6:00am and snooze until an inappropriate time, until I realise once again I snoozed for too long and my 7:10 on the dot – must – leave – to – catch – bus – on – time routine is in dire trouble, but every morning I make it out of the house on time, some mornings with a chunk banana hanging out of my mouth, others with my gym gear hurriedly locking the door and quite literally flying down the road to catch my bus to the train station. I catch it and hurrah – yes! I remembered to top up my weekly Oyster card the evening before. I tap in, squish myself on the bus for the short ride to the station and then run to catch the faster train, tapping in- making in on just before the doors close AND I manage to get a seat (on the rush hour Thameslink trains, this is a miracle). 

The morning is grey, with a lazy burning ochre sunrise playing wistfully in the distance, I sit quietly listening to my music and staring out of the window instead of catching up on Twitter or Instagram. A haphazard line of fiery trees burned in the distance, a warm reminder of an autumnal and winter breeze, and a welcome change to the concrete landscape that blurs as the train moves quickly from station to station.  I stifle a yawn fuelled by too many late nights on Netflix and get off at London Blackfriars, heavily breathing in the intoxicating scent of fresh coffee before heading out of my exit and stepping into crunchy orangey red leaves. Everywhere, gently curled leaves resting in piles on the floor, not yet marred by London’s constant rain. I smile to myself as I giddily stomp through the leaves to my local coffee shop. 

The leaves remain for some weeks, and each morning their warmth makes the start of my day a little bit better. Dogs happily playing in the flecked watercolour warmth, small children holding leaves to their eyes and yelling ‘peek a boo’ to their bemused parents, and I with my mustard trainers stomp, stomp, stomping away. And then all the leaves fell. And the trees were left bare. Skeletal twisted marron shadows that lined the streets. I began to wrap my scarf a little tighter, bury my head a little deeper into my chest, and quicken my steps, noticing those one golden brown leaves slowly disintegrating under my feet. 

And then the rain came. November’s rain came thunderous and heavily, she made no announcement, she simply turned up one day and washed all the leaves away. Day after day, hood up and coffee in hand scurrying to the office, I would look down and the pavement became more and more grey again, with raindrops spattering all around me like great big tears.  Mornings became darker and it was harder and harder to get out of bed in the mornings, and the rains mid-November hit me square in the face, almost choking me with her force. Water was all around, splashing my ankles from the puddles in the road, invasive droplets finding their way into my jacket and on some evenings, an exhausted stream would make her way from my closed eyes onto my heaving chest.

Things changed after the leaves fell. But “Though the winter is long even richer, The harvest it brings. Though my waiting prolongs even greater, Your promise for me like a seed…I believe that my season will come”.

Jumper* – &otherstories | Trousers* – &otherstories | Boots – Tophop

photos by fifi newberry

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