I awoke with a cloud of ennui hanging over my head. A drizzle of languor and lassitude has already begun, which is rather strange because it is bright and sunny outside. Flowers are still blooming even though leaves have started dropping from trees in preparation for the winter. They recognize the futility of hanging on to their attachments.
Speaking of the fall that is upon us here in America, it is remarkable how clinical and utilitarian nature is. Trees are shedding their leaves because their utility and lifespan is over. There is no fuss in that process of shedding. They just fall off without making any sound. It they do make any sound it is clearly below the human auditory range. Perhaps there is no gentler way to mark death.
I stepped out this morning to shake off lethargy and saw a couple of leaves in the midst of their fall. They were very distinct during their very short journey downward but as they settled on the ground one could not tell one from the other in a pile of leaves. I was struck by how quickly distinction is erased by nature. We are all on a short leash from nature.
