By Rev. Mary Gelfand,
When I was a girl, growing up in Florida, I longed for seasonal change. Somehow palms and citrus trees did not have the same affect on my soul. Every fall, my aunt, who lived in northern Alabama, would gather a couple of handfuls of brightly colored leaves from her yard, iron them between 2 pieces of waxed paper and send them to me. By the time these gifts reached me, their color had begun to fade, but I cherished them, both for their beauty and the love they represented.
Now, living in Maine, I am reminded of these gifts as I scuff through the accumulated red and yellow leaves in my yard. Trees and leaves have always fascinated me. The fading red leaf in my hand has 3 main veins extending from it’s stem and dozens of smaller ones, bringing moisture and nutrition to the growing green leaf in the spring and summer, and now gradually draining the same resources back into the heart of the mother tree.
It is windy today, and drops of gold and scarlet grace are dancing with the wind as they begin their descent into the bosom of Mother Earth. I marvel at the depth of the artist’s palette trees use in preparing to shed their leaves. I can think of no other living thing than so beautifully prepares for and releases a piece of its soul to fall to the earth and begin the process of dissolving.
Autumn is a challenging time for me—all of the personal tragedies I’ve experienced are rooted in this season. Each fall I sink again into periods of depression and intense sadness, which are not lessened by my ability to anticipate them.
I envy the trees their ability to so joyfully and beautifully release that which they loved deeply and supported intensely. I want the trees to teach me how they manage this miracle year after year—how I too can approach the season of loss and sadness with beauty and joy.
Rev. Dr. Mary Gelfand is an ordained Interfaith Minister, a gifted teacher, and Wiccan High Priestess. She teaches and writes on the topics of feminist spirituality, Tarot, and Earth-centered spiritual paths. She resides in Wells with her husband Mark, two cats, and a forest full of birds, chipmunks, and other mysteries of life. You can see more of her writings at weavingthestars.blogspot.com.
