Fall leaves

Sitting on the porch swing in Denver looking out at the trees. Lake asks me, “Do the trees change color in California?”

I think about it. “I don’t know. Not the redwoods, I don’t think.”

“Well, what makes them change?” Krys asks.

“I think it’s them dying. The chlorophyl that gives them life goes away and the green color fades.”

I look at a tree across the street. It’s October and the leaves are shades of green, orange, and yellow. It’s like an aging population. One branch has green leaves that are all young—it’s a school of youths and no elders. Another branch on the outer edge has mostly orange members—these are middle-aged citizens that think back to their own youth in the spring months. And the yellow leaves, towards the end of their lives, looking at the ground beneath and preparing for their Fall.