Walking under the colorful Colorado trees one fall day, I bent and picked up a handful of gold. I cannot resist picking up fallen leaves in the autumn. I stick them to my refrigerator door with magnets. I fill bowls with them on my tables. They are symbols to me of transient beauty.

Several days after my mountain walk, I reached in my jacket pocket and found the leaves I'd hoarded. I laid them out on the table, and decided that I wanted to keep them longer than the few days they would survive on their own. As a weaver, I kept them the best way I knew how; I wove them into a tapestry.