Today I saw a gold tree on my afternoon walk, its leaves breaking away from the branches, fluttering in the wind, finding final rest on the grass and sidewalk. I often miss this about other cities where I’ve lived, especially during the late weeks of fall; the trees are so different farther north, farther east, the colors constantly on display.
Los Angeles is different. Better known for its swaying palms and fuchsia flowers, our trees look mostly the same year-round, turning only from vibrant shades of green to muted and dull. Only some, like the one gold tree on my block, will eventually turn brown, then barren.
I took a photo of the gold tree, then stood in the sun as it filtered through the branches. I walk this same route every day and never noticed it before. How did I not see it before? One beautiful thing. It’s a new practice I’m trying to incorporate into my days this winter. I choose an object in the morning, or whenever it finds me, something I find beautiful. Then, no matter…
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