Leaves’ lives dance across the fast-changing season
Now that most of us are rich in leaves and impressed by the panoramic beauty of the season, did you ever think of the odyssey of the humble leaves?
Leaves, which we rake away, offer an amazing variety in size, color and pure beauty and always blow by our houses on the way to new vistas to forage in nearby forests or fields.
I believe leaves have more pure fun than anybody. They reflect more abandon than the average human and have no control over their ecstasy, abandoning themselves to the tremor of the wind.
Leaves ingratiate themselves into the tightest crevasses to the amazement and chagrin of most leaf-rakers.
Our leaves enrich the soil. They also give you a whiff of nostalgia for the former days of youth when they become burning pyres. Leaves burning in the fall emit an unforgettable aroma that warms your cold heart and warns of the coming winter. And these sentinels predict and forecast what is to come by quickly and how soon they fall. And you hesitantly look at the wan western sky. They are the chanticleer warning of bare trees and lean winter days. But you’ve got to love leaves that effortlessly present Old World beauty at no cost. And they are soon on the wing again, impatient to be in one place or too serious for very long because they have much to do down the way. They are God’s scriveners for the message of the season to be told.