This year it looks like autumn is struggling to arrive. It seems like it puts back its return a little further each year.

I’m longing for the ochres, yellows and toasted colours autumn brings. The slow, poetic bareness of the trees that have given us shade and shelter in summer. The rains that sow life, streams, moss, the smell of wet earth. I long for the smell of firewood in the village hearths: the smell of holm oak, like a scent that awakens desire, that invites you to breathe deep and give thanks for the awareness of feeling.

Leaves of fire that fall from above, destinies uncertain. They must leave the branches they’re attached to and become humus to give life to the leaves that will bud in spring. And the trees will sleep, but life will carry on, not in the branches, but in the earth, awaiting a new awakening.

A metaphor for our lives is this autumn that shows us its bareness, the cycle of life, the eternal beat of Gaia, our mother Earth.

I hope you enjoy this video, and the autumn with its painter’s palette.

Hugs, kisses,


Alex Rovira