As Fall the Leaves

On Thanksgiving Monday we said goodbye to one old friend and to one elderly aunt. We’ve moved past the stage where the only seniors we knew were our parents and their friends, and an occasional former colleague. Now we and our friends are seniors, even if we don’t quite think of ourselves as elderly.

Some of us seem well on our way to letting go; others are still going strong.

Some seem to have packed up all sensible-like for the coming snows; others are still defiantly blooming.

All are undeniably aging in some respects; many still have vibrant aspects.

As the leaves fall, so will we.

Soon or late. Sitting off to the side somewhere or walking, albeit slowly, along the path. Grieving what is lost or being thankful for what remains and for the people we’ve known.

The leaves don’t get to choose the manner of their fall. Maybe we do.

This entry was posted in Feeling Clearly, Mortality, Photos of Flora and tagged , . Bookmark the permalink.

14 Responses to As Fall the Leaves

  1. Dorothy Warren says:

    Such a lovely essay. Very poignant.

  2. Lorna says:

    Lovely, Isabel.

  3. Marilyn Reynolds says:

    Very lovely Isabel.

  4. Perhaps the greatest solaces we find are in nature. The little rose bush given to me by neighbours as a memorial to my sister put out one last delicate pink-and-white blossom this week past and has already faded. The memory of loveliness lives on and the hope for another season of dawn-colours blooming.

    • Isabel Gibson says:

      Laurna – Yes, there’s something very comforting about the seasonal cycle, even though we know that it doesn’t apply to us (or not without end). And I think that planting something beautiful is a lovely in memoriam.

  5. Tom Watson says:

    Isabel
    Julia and I are at a cottage near Midland this week. Leaves that have done their summer job have dropped. A golden carpet.
    Tom

  6. barbara carlson says:

    From our 22nd floor I could see fat-leaved trees that were holding on well until that windy night. I came out the next morning to see no leaves on those trees and a circular carpet of colour at their base. Whoomp! It’s over. That’s the way I want to go.
    Just fall off my perch as it were.

  7. Very nicely said, Nice “metaphorizing”

    • Isabel Gibson says:

      Jim R – Hahaha. And as funny as “metaphorizing” sounds, at least it’s easier than simile-ing. Similizing?

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published.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


This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.