Pulled down by the wind and rain, most of the maple’s leaves had been deposited on the walkway before us, where they were further tamped down by the footfalls of humans. It seemed like such an ignoble ending to what had been a lovely journey, yet this very act of destruction and degradation was all a part of the process. From the decay and disintegration came a covering that would once again become one with the soil, nourishing the next crop of leaves that were waiting to bud and unfurl in chartreuse glory come spring.
On the edge of a forest, where a stream maintains its gentle flow even when it rains, this bed of leaves is a blanket that will ultimately provide sustenance and support to the very tree from which it came. To some it is a sad sight – the embodiment of summer’s end and ruin – to others it is a happy sign of a cozy slumber to come, and the chance to rejuvenate and rest for the next year.
We all need a winter blanket.
