The Beauty of a Withering Leaf

Walking home from work recently, a small round leaf that was being carried by the wind blew in my face and just before it fell to the ground I caught it, I had no intention of examining the leaf the way I did but I found that I was drawn to its beauty in a way one would not have expected. 

This tiny leaf had small bumps on it indicating that at some point in time it may have been host to a party insects who might have made it their temporary home, it was half yellow and half brown which meant that death had already taken place and it was experiencing its final stage of withering.

The story this withering leaf told just by looking at it was phenomenal; it had started out as a tiny bud enthusiastic to see the new big wonderful world, enthusiastic about the unknown wanting to see it; and so as it moved from a bud to a tiny leaf it opened itself to the process of photosynthesis basking in the glow of the sun and taking in all the nutrients it could from its mother plant.

  With each day it grew stronger, older and got exposed to several different variables of the life it lived. Each vein going in a different direction; like out stretched palms; fingers eagerly wanting to gently caress the face of definiteness, the fingerprints of life tracing the contours of purpose.

There were nice warm days when the sun was happy and there were days when he was so angry that he forced himself unto her causing bruises and leaving her with sunburn scorches, the rain quenched her thirst, and the wind allowed her to dance and feel free.

 Sometimes all these variables combined together brought her pain in the form of thunder storms and hurricanes twisting and turning her and forcing her to become intimate with the ground.  And at the end of it all when she could take it no more when her time had expired and a new bud pushed its way through tough bark wanting to see the world she had enjoyed with its pain and joys it was her time to go; she had moved from varied shades of green to yellow she was withering away and as she breathed her last breath the wind didn't just allow her to dance and feel free this time it freed her.

I was so blown away by this leaf that I ended up taking it home and placing it among the jewelry on the dressing table, it was to me a treasured piece of jewelry that I didn't want to lose even if it was already dead to the unimaginative dense minds of this world, the processes that had taken place made me reflect on the fact that I was t the leaf enjoying all this big beautiful, ugly world had to offer, its pains , its joys , thunderstorms and hurricanes,  the beauty of a starry sky or the full moon, cool windy days and the summer’s  sunshine. 

 I’m a rarity among women – I actually look forward to birthdays for the main reason that they mean I am a year older (I love age) and hopefully many moons wiser than I was the year before learning from life’s hiccups and understanding that true strength often times means letting go and moving on with true contentment not caring if the rest of the world can comprehend it. 

My being a rarity among my kind has allowed me to look at this leaf with old eyes in that I am able to truly appreciate the process of change ; change not only in the life span of the leaf but change among us .... The fact that no life is given to stagnation, appreciating days of ease and joy and embracing struggles and pain for what they positively represent. 

 And so I salute the beauty of a withering leaf.