nIn Hong Kong, red leaves are a luxury. Every early winter, many people travel to Tai Tong in Yuen Long just to see a few sweet gum trees turning red. The red is not intense, the leaves are not plentiful, yet people flock there. In subtropical Hong Kong, most trees are evergreen, making it hard to feel the autumnal spirit, and red leaves become a rare guest.n
nIn the UK, red leaves become commonplace. Come October, parks in London, country lanes, and Scottish valleys are awash with red, orange, and gold. The maple, oak, and beech trees lining the streets ignite like simultaneous flames, illuminating the entire island nation. For Hongkongers newly arrived in the UK, such an autumn is both unfamiliar and captivating—a palette never belonging to the southern climes.n
nThe reason leaves turn red is not romantic but physiological. As autumn days shorten and temperatures drop, chlorophyll breaks down and photosynthesis halts. Carotenoids and xanthophylls, which lie dormant in the leaves, become visible. Coupled with sugar accumulation, ample sunlight, and cool, dry nights, plants produce anthocyanins, turning leaves from green to red. The red is not a melancholy farewell but a defensive strategy before departure—it reduces photodamage, delays decay, and allows the tree to reclaim nutrients before winter.n
nHong Kong sees few red leaves due to its warm climate. The small temperature difference between day and night, high humidity, and short autumn make it hard for sugars to accumulate and anthocyanins to form. Moreover, evergreen species dominate, and deciduous trees are scarce, leaving only sweet gum, liquidambar, and soapberry to turn red. In contrast, the UK’s temperate climate, with its sunny, dry autumn days and cool, non-freezing nights, provides perfect conditions for red leaves. When natural conditions align, the entire country changes color simultaneously.n
nIn the UK, one does not need to seek out red leaves. From late September, the Scottish Highlands first blush; by mid-October, the Lake District, Cotswolds, and New Forest follow suit; and from late October to early November, London’s Richmond Park, Hampstead Heath, and Kew Gardens reach their peak. At dusk, with the sunset reflecting in the mist, the forest seems to burn silently, with only the sound of falling leaves.n
nFor new immigrants, this scene is like a belated revelation. What once required a journey to see is now just outside the window. This natural rhythm suddenly makes one realize that migration is not just about changing places but also about learning a new season. Hong Kong’s red leaves are fleeting and rare, while the UK’s are a perpetual cycle; the same leaf color reflects different lives.n
nRed leaves teach us that leaving does not mean losing, and changing color does not signify withering. The transition of seasons is, in fact, a continuation of life. As Hongkongers gaze at the fiery trees in a foreign land, they may also understand that their hearts are finding peace with the seasons.n
