In Gratitude: Leaves

I had a quick lunch at a little park on my route.  It wasn't fancy-- not the apple and yogurt, nor the graveled parking lot.  It is, however,  a place where I find peace and quality time with my own thoughts.  There was no human sound, save the relentless traffic.  The breeze was warm, the clouds spattered across the sky minded their own business.  I was soaking up September.

The car windows were open. What a beautiful almost fall day....

I thought I felt something fly  against my cheek.  Swiftly swatting at the supposed insect, I found instead a tiny red leaf.  It looks like a maple leaf, though most of the trees are pines and firs.  It is tiny as maple leaves go, maybe inch and a half across, but the colors!  A heavenly artist must have painted the shades of red, the specks of gold, the tips of brown.  I look up and all I see is green--and the crimson one I hold now in my hand.

A harbinger of autumn on this late summer day...

Some think of fall as the end, when everything dies.  I don't try to explain the way I view the life cycle of birth, living and death, because like the leaves I believe there is more for humans, too.  The leaves will be back in new glory next spring. They are resting...everything in its time...and in a couple of weeks Solomon in his glorious robes won't be able to compete with the gold, crimson and pumpkin-colored leaves of fall.

I tucked the little red leaf into my notebook.  It will be replaced by another one of these days, one of gold, perhaps, as beautiful but different. It will never be as significant as the first one of the season no matter how I try to make it so.  The first leaf of autumn, the first snowflake, the first rose are always special.

Today I have added to my list of gratitude the leaves.  Whether they are green or red, sprouting from a limb above my head, brilliant in their fall garb or crunching beneath my feet, every leaf has its moment of beauty before its demise.  I am grateful for them, no matter what their stage of being.  As with friends old and new, distant or close--each has a place and a reason for being.

I've been practicing how to be grateful for the large and small of things, for hot summer days and cool fall ones, for  the crisp white winter days and fresh spring ones.  I am grateful that I have grandchildren to share the pumpkins and the man I love to share the harvest moon and the stars.  I am learning to be grateful for those things I have and the things I will never have.  

I am grateful for the little red leaf today.