Musings on a leaf...

What is the destination of an autumn leaf? Knowing that it is fated to crumble apart and fall into nothingness, does it care whether it lands on rich soft soil that will drink of its essence gratefully, or on the cold, hard pavement that is neither nourished nor burdened by its moldy remains?

I once watched a dead brown leaf drift in a low breeze and twirl across the road. It was buffeted to and fro in an easy rhythm -- one, two, pause, pause, one, two, pause, pause, to the left, to the right, then hanging in mid air. It finally tumbled head over heels and smacked against the curb across the way. It sank there, and seemed to sigh. Was it disappointed? Relieved? Both?

The inquisitive element of my personality might wonder how this tale of an oak leaf’s end mirrors that of the human experience. I can certainly identify with the sense of being knocked to and fro. Inside each brilliant moment, each loosely linked episode of life experience that constitutes the chain of my days here on Earth, I have often held the belief that I was in control of the direction my life was taking. In the back of my mind, however, the quiet but strangely penetrating voice some might call one’s unconscious, always whispered the truth. I am but a leaf afloat on the breeze.

So the question I have is this: when each of us lights down on our final resting place, will we have found someone who will willingly act as our deep soft soil? Someone to love, honor and cherish us and be glad of our existence on this earth? Or will we be alone and forgotten, fated to be left to the tender mercies of the cold, hard pavement of obscurity? And what, if any, control do we have over it all?

Photo by Blue Stone Graphics http://www.flickr.com/photos/bluestonestudios/1195477131/