A Life Lesson

Sitting, cradled in the limbs of what I had determined was the most secure outpost of childhood uncertainties, I came to the realization that I alone had just discovered the relationship of death to life. This elder statesman of Oak, that held high court over my uncles pasture, always provided cover and a portent for any impending incursion to the sanctity of my domain. But today, my old friend was for me a teacher. With my back to his massive trunk, he provided shelter from a chilly north wind that would foretell the inevitable change that was this life lesson. I sat mesmerized watching, what seemed like one at a time, each leaf, the offspring of my guardian, as it surrendered to the wind, cascading to its rest. The beauty of this descent and the feather-like bed of honey and ginger pillows they formed seemed to confirm they understood their role as keepers of warmth and revival. It was as if no life was ever without meaning even in its death; ever. I saw their dignity. I, on that day, came to better understand my own. The complexity was so simple, as defined in his explanation. To my old friend and teacher, I remain in your arms and forever in your debt.