The oaks let go

The oaks were the last to let go of their leaves this year. It happened almost suddenly. One day the large, bronze leaves stood in contrast to evergreens and the skeletal remains of other deciduous trees; the next day, they were flying off the trees like migrating birds.

It was an unseasonably warm day, too: 70 degrees and breezy. I opened the windows, and the steady south wind kept those oak leaves pressed up against the screen all day until I closed the window and they unceremoniously dropped off.