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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required Sitting on the porch of our cabin…protected by the eaves surrounded by the forest I’m acutely aware of the susurration of the leaves. How together as they sway a little on the branches of the trees I can hear their rhythmic beauty…urged and prompted by the breeze. Most of the sounds are onomatopoeic…as the wind invisibly passes through I hear the leaves not only swish and rustle…but whisper to one another too. If I listen closely I can hear exactly what they have to say how they thank the tree…the sun…and greet other leaves to start their day. And with Fall approaching…bathed in morning light I hear the leaves comment on how their colors have changed a little over night. I remain silent…keeping all my thoughts within… for I do not want the leaves to know that I am listening in. I hear the younger leaves…whose colors have already turned… and who are feeling a bit appalled… ask the older leaves…still green…”What is it like to fall?” And I hear the older leaves whisper…as they look the young ones in their eyes… “You will not be falling.” They tell them. “For a few moments….you will fly.” “And after gliding for a moment…you will land softly on the ground so softly that, when you land, you will not make a sound.” I’ve been lucky to watch and listen with my ears and with my eyes to be there…to be a witness…when a young leaf learns to fly. And if I listen closely…as it breaks from the safety of the tree one of the most beautiful sounds of Autumn is a young leaf crying….Wheeeee!
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