“How do you feel when your leaves change color and fall to the ground?
Do you feel vulnerable as you let go of that which has nourished and fed and clothed your body through the seasons?
What would it be for me to lean into the changing seasons and let go like you?
Would I be able to notice the beauty in the changing,
In the letting go and dying?”
I’m not sure.
I ponder this as I walk the lake and notice the beauty of fall and the changing colors:
Such colorful beauty they hold.
They add richness and depth to the surrounding landscape.
I would find it hard to live in a place where the seasons weren’t marked by the changing leaves.
I would miss this letting go.
Do you feel naked and barren once your leaves have dropped?
Do you get cold?
Or do you embrace your bare self, knowing that there is so much more going on below the surface?
Thank you dear trees