The Beauty of Decay

Since it was the beginning of the fall, it had made Laurier Park a multi-colored portrait. Trees were competing with each other, trying to show the park goers which looked prettier with yellow, red, and orange leaves. Sadly, though, those beautiful leaves also signaled the end of their life cycle. In a matter of days or a week, leaves would start to fall one after the other.


The tree could beg, cry, and plead with all its might, pray to the Sun God or any other deity overlooking nature, but none of that would stop the leaves from falling. The earth was patiently waiting for their arrival. It had nourished the tree with water and other ingredients for the tree to produce those leaves, and now it was fair enough for the earth to be given its due share. The process was eternal. Until a tree falls down, the earth keeps feeding the trees while the trees keep returning the leaves to nurture the earth, making its soil fertile.


None of them were tired or complained about the waiting time or the share of what they got. No wars, governments, revolutions, austerity measures, liberals, communists, nationalists, or even the social media influencers could change this orderly action ever. Every year it happened without preconditions, agreements, or demands. Far more subtle and honorable than human transactions in every sense. It was also a stark reminder of what life really meant: from the earth and back to it. One leaf after another. The colors, size, or shape did not matter. They all had to go back. I felt such an emptiness just by seeing those leaves.


Comments

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *