Leaves

I live in a tidy neighborhood. There are no white picket fences, at least the kind you can see, but people distinguish their properties all the same. Nowhere is that more evident than at this time of year. Take, for example, the way we deal with leaves.

There are those who hire others to remove their leaves. Strict instructions are given by one neighbor that leaves are to be removed immediately. He cares not where they go, just that they go, so his home remains neat and tidy continuously. He wants to live as if the leaves do not exist.

Others rake or blow their leaves into neat piles on the curb and wait for the city to take them away. The leaves, for these neighbors, are necessary nuisances that must be tolerated until they are removed and life can go on.

Then there are “the mulchers,” those who don’t see leaves as debris to be whisked away or nuisances to be tolerated, but as potential food. They grind the leaves into little pieces and  scattered them over the lawn where they eventually become food for the soil. Their approach is the messiest, but it’s also the healthiest.

Like trees, we live through different seasons. We celebrate the joy and excitement of new life just like we do when trees bring forth leaves and blossoms again. Whether a new job, project, or relationship, it’s easy to dance when all is new. Such a dance is more challenging when the leaves begin to fall and flowers blow away. Yes, to everything there is a season, but how we handle the change in seasons says a lot about our approach to life.

There are those of us who long to deny the leaves. We pay a lot to have them whisked away, as if they never existed, so our homes appear neat and tidy throughout the year.

Others tolerate the leaves, seeing them as necessary nuisances to be endured. They blow or rake them into neat piles, as if to contain or control the mess, and wait for them to be taken away so they can get on with their lives.

Then there are the mulchers, people who not only accept the leaves, but also see them as potential food, if only they take the time to grind them into little pieces and scatter them on their lawns. It is then that death becomes life, mistakes become experience, and ignorance becomes wisdom. It’s a messy way to live, but it’s the healthiest.