Breathe
By Edmée Pardo
I am fascinated by autumn. All of it, the temperature, the change in the tone of the light, the fruits of the season, the day of the dead, Thanksgiving, the changing of the leaves, the more sheltering clothes, the thick sheets. I recently took an autumn bath: I walked for five days under the maples (better known as maples). I felt gold, copper and sunshine falling in slices on my head. The foliage was so intensely yellow, at one point I thought the sun had risen in the middle of a cloudy day. I paused in the reddish, ochre and orange tapestries. I closed my eyes and opened them again. The greatest spectacle was happening in front of me and I counted (I counted) with health and eyes to look and be. How to name what you look at? Is it egg yellow or guava yellow? Gold, pee, beer, ginger, banana, white wine, champagne, is it orange or copper? Melon, raw salmon, cooked salmon, carrot, shrimp, brick, rust. Is it pink or red? Grapefruit, guasave, beet, sangria, red wine, plum. Coffee beaver, coffee earth, coffee dog.
