The 4th of November was a sunny Sunday. Colorfully and fragrantly the autumn foliage covered the ground of the meadow. Every step a rustling delight. For years I have been watching this, and every year I’m more amazed. In spring, the trees bud and put forth tender fragrant formations. Delicate greens unfold to become small orderly miracles. Light sensors. We call them: leaves.
Then, when Earth with the slight variations in her orbit around the sun causes the seasons to change, the leaves begin falling. Each leaf has its own exit. Some swirl wildly in the wind together, set free a single and last time. Others glide down silently. Altogether they become a colorful – enormously heavy – carpet.
On November 4th, I set out with a leaf rake to pattern this carpet.
The meadow with its trees and my rhythm of raking create a spontaneous plan that I’m intuitively following. Step by step, like a predetermined dance.
Later on, wind and weather assisted in the arranging. Almost daily I continued working on it. The leaves remained on the ground until long into March.
On March 16th 2016 the project was ended.