Old Friends

It surprised me to see these two old friends still standing. Friends of the cradle - I imagined. Friends of the heart.

I thought about the lives they've lived..the paths they've followed. I wondered about the season's cycles. I wondered about time and its passage. How quickly it passes by.

They looked good - in this morning light. In fact - they never looked better. Copper patina mixed in with a sprinkling of faded gold.

So many days - I've walked by..taken a moment to observe and notice. I've captured them - barren and naked - in winter...and fully clothed in the summers of their lives. I've watched their branches blossom and bloom. And - this morning - I stopped to capture them in the last glorious burst of their colorful decline.

When I passed them by this late afternoon - I found their leaves all but fallen...their branches almost bare.

It reminded me of the significance of the singular moment..that it will never be repeated in quite this same way ever again. The color..the light..the intertwining leaves and lives.

And I imagined that these two friends - of the cradle and the heart - will stand there leaning in to one another just as they always have. Season after season. Year after year. Right into their old age and beyond.