I found a maple leaf on the ground as I walked up our front
walk. It was a deep red, almost
burgundy. It was one of those perfectly
shaped leaves that cry out, “Pick me up and press me in a book!” I left it there, a contrast against what is
left of the green grass, amidst the acorns and their caps, as a symbol that the
season is changing again. I suppose I
could have picked it up and held it for a few moments, admiring how just last
week the leaf was green and today it looks different. New.
Transformed. Not just a little
bit, but fully changed in a short, short time.
Tomorrow I could go out and look for that leaf and I know
that if I could find it, no longer a candidate for an autumn leaf collection it
would be drier and more brittle and maybe a little more brown. But there would be another, newly fallen
leaf, adding to the layer on the grass.
Each day, the lawn will transform as the other trees let go of the 2013
leaves, their lives spent, their cycle complete.
The leaves have provided shelter and shade when the sun was
hottest and now they will provide nourishment for the earth, feeding the ground
as it prepares for the winter.
Another reminder of the life cycle, of the fluidity of
living and dying. Today is the
anniversary of the death of a friend, and there were three posts on Facebook
about people dying or being buried today.
Each expressed their thankfulness for the life of their loved one, how
they were sheltered, protected and nourished by these loved ones in life and
will be strengthened by the memories as they grieve.
Maybe I should gather a few leaves and acorns and light a
candle, focusing on life, thankful for the cycle.
O Holy One, birds are migrating, winds are blowing, leaves
are falling and people are dying.
Through all these signs, help us to be thankful, to press our memories
into a book and to give you praise.
Amen.