In the cooling days of autumn, rain-pocked and fallen leaves seem to mark the yearnings of all beings to live and then to leave. There is always something healing in this dying season for me, something that promises regeneration in the coming generation because those of us who must leave soon have done what we could while here. Like us, the leaves, bright and flaunting colours uncommon to them in their youths, carry a whole life within themselves, even as they depart, leaving just enough of themselves behind to ensure that the ones who are born for tomorrow have their chance to exist and contribute before also exiting this beguiling, bewildering stage.
If fall is upon your part of the world, I wish you joy in it. If it is yet a season away? Take comfort, for it will return (even to deserts for whom leaves are a luxury or absent!), heralding the peace of what endures for humanity on this planet no matter what sound and fury strides among us otherwise.
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