Leaves of Change

I'm noticing that the current change in season is feeling much like the transitional period I am in as well. Yesterday my early morning walk was bright and crisp and blue. The colored trees were literally glowing and the path through the park was lined with softly fallen leaves. It was almost like walking through virgin snow, and in places the leaves were knee high. The creek was coated in leaves, and they were all collected around the edges of the glassy ponds and on the shore among the rocks. The railing on the bridges were covered in the leaves that looked as though they had been perched there for some sort of photograph. Leaves were continuing to fall softly all around me, like snowflakes. I caught a couple young teen-age deer frolicking on the hillside. Chasing each other back and forth in the leaves, trying to bite each others little puff tails. The rock garden where unseen people, or perhaps fairies, balance rocks into stupas was lightly decorated with the leaves, and it was beautiful. The duck pond was like glass and the bright trees reflected fully in the water. There was a silence too, that went along with the fallen leaves and babbling creek that felt deep and full. I could even hear leaves dropping. It was the sort of silence that leaves my head feeling rather empty.

This morning, it was cold and blustery. The same paths that looked quiet and serene yesterday were now full of blowing leaves that were being swept by the wind into piles and stacks. The wind whistled and the trees bent. There was a deep rumbling in the trees and my cheeks burned with the wet cold. It threatened to be drizzly, with that heavy anticipation of a release of rain in the air. The paths were all in movement and transition, and the leaves blew and circled around my feet. Many of the trees that were brilliant yellow yesterday were empty and stark looking today. People walking by were wrapped deeply in scarves and hats and gloves. As I got closer to home the threatening drizzle turned into rain drops, and I was soon wet and cold and the sidewalks were plastered with leaves that looked like they had somehow been glued there. The smell was deep and wet and earthy, and as I walked past a smoking woman I noticed I could feel the texture of the smells and natural composting that was happening beneath my feet. It was a very different day today. I noticed that change is sometimes slow and easy, and sometimes loud and harsh. Either way, I am feeling the change in a variety of ways - this one was very visible, physical and loud.

I too am feeling changed like that. Some of the changes over the course of the last year have been loud and harsh, others have been soft and transitional. What I know is there is a new landscape being created. I may not know what the next season will bring, but like the change of summer into fall, I can trust it is a transition necessary for my health, my wholeness and for my own beautiful landscape.