The summer defines the autumn. If it is warm and wet, the trees put on huge numbers of leaves. Consequently, in autumn, vast swathes of leaves cover the ground. There are a lot of leaves this autumn and I have joyfully kicked my way through them. The child is still in me. However, ash dieback saw fewer leaves on this species. Consequently, the limestone dales gave little colour and the leaves fell early. This can be contrasted to so much more colour as you drive east towards Sheffield. There are fewer ash trees on the acid soils where the gritstone rules. The dominant tree in those areas is the oak. That tree is slower to colour and holds its leaves for longer. It is a different autumn colour but no less wonderful. So, the gist of my post is that autumn colours vary.

The Beech

I planted two beech trees in my garden. Consequently, I see their gorgeous colours even whilst washing-up. Yes, they will be far too big for my garden. However, I have a pair of shears. I have already trimmed them a little. If I was staying long-term, I would trim them into columns. They don’t mind and they still display the colours as winter strikes. However, I am reminded of them by the trees in my photo. This is a wood I pass though on my run towards Castleton, nearly all mature beech trees. It is all leaf colour, both on the trees and fallen on the ground. Often, the leaves fall like confetti. The yellowing falling leaves contrast with the blackish upright tree trunks.

Autumn colours

If autumn colours are a pleasure, it is just a fraction of what trees do for us. Once the leaves have fallen, the wind soughing through the trees is winter epitomised. In spring, the subtle emergence of the leaves is a form of magic. The summer is a leafy umbrella, the cool shade of towering trees. It is why I have planted 10 trees in my garden, some small apple varieties. The hedge is hornbeam, another native species with a colour palette. We need the seasons. When I move back to relatively tree free Dorset, leaf colour gives little away. The arbiter of the seasons becomes the sea, in all its moods.