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Raghavendra Rao

Why did nature make this maple tree so exciting with enticing colours in its last stage?

"Any photograph has multiple meanings; indeed, to see something in the form of a photograph is to encounter a potential object of fascination. The ultimate wisdom of the photographic image is to say: There is the surface. Now think — or rather feel, intuit — what is beyond it, what the reality must be if it looks this way... "

— Susan Sontag

The magnificent vista of maple leaves, during autumn in North America a couple of years ago, came flooding to my memory one morning, recently. The breathtaking colourful leaves and their enchanting spread, and my eagerness to hold on to the colours had become a mission in life then.

And suddenly and unexpectedly, a lone maple tree stands right in front of our home, as though to welcome us as we arrive in Sydney, a long distance from the US. A tree and its varied colours, as though to say, "Here we are again... Your dream."

The wintry sun lazily comes up as I approach the maple tree with love and submission the next morning. There is silence all around and not too far away is the bush, called the "Fox Valley", a mini forest spread across several kilometres. I walk slowly towards the tree filling my eyes with its many-coloured splendour. I also know that this splendour would not last long. A couple of days perhaps and the leaves would be bidding farewell to the tree. But then it is like living or moving away from the dear ones only to return soon.

The tree would soon be bare, but then in a short time the green would sprout. Seasons change — run through — but nature, in its cycle of the beginning and the end, would once again herald the arrival of colours. The green is a soothing sight, but why did nature make this maple tree so exciting with enticing colours in its last stages? If only we mortals could fill in with colours as the evening sets in!

I am there, right under the tree. A strong cold wind is blowing through and it is a shower of many a leaf. Was it a welcome? Were the leaves remembering me too? The extension of my sense, the camera, takes over.

Brown, yellow, orange and those reds... one by one or together they strike a musical note as my finger gently presses the button. My mind is filled with contentment.

Another year, another season. I feel blessed... . for the mind still feels and sees the colours.

Talking to my grand children, I tell them the story of "The Tree" — my enchantment and long journey with the leaves. Interest kindled, they run every morning to see the maple tree in front of our home.

A week later, we all know time would ring the bell.

Now the maple tree stands bare, on yet another journey.

And in the garden, roses are in full bloom.

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