It was blustery. Heck, it was blowing a gale.
‘Winds of change’ they’d said, and now all that leaf could hear was that bloody whistling.
Seasons were rotating less reliably than in the past. It was really one BIG season now. It was all interchangeable murk with some sun thrown in.
Tree had done well...all things considered. What with dealing with a tornado AND some wriggly little pests whose hairs were a pain in the proverbial for the feet-walkers, he’d stood firm. Resolute.
Leaf was hanging around. Photosynthetic and, if you must know, feeling slightly photo-pathetic, this was not her best side.
She’d hung on grimly as those around her had fallen and been carried off by a combination of gravity and Zephyrus, to land in a gently rotting pile of leaf corpses far below.
Decomposing. Compost. Returning to whence they had come.
Imagine being attached to all that there was, the actual Tree Of Life and seeing your numbers dwindle. Watch as your brothers and sisters tumble downward. A cascade of death and suffering.
Witness the ebbing of existence as it slowly decayed.
Eternal life becoming less so.
Leaf held fast.
Amber, sap, resin, whatever you called it, coursed through the trunk and branches as it should and thought it would, through this wood, if cut, yes a tree bleeds.
Evergreens, the shits! Always there and fake proud. Designer trees, Bonsai’s etc etc...they knew little off the reality of things.
Life force, the gently slowing of time. Leaf took a look around, the wind proffering a greater view of things than was normally allowed under the canopy.
Leaf was ready now that she was a reddish hue. The pigmentation alteration an indicator that her time was coming.
Like a paratrooper ready to take the plunger, she was strapped in, counting down the moments until her turn.
Seasons come and seasons go.
