JOIN USThe leaves that claimed a piece of the sky now make a bed for themselves on the ground to rest comfortably.
It’s the season when some trees shed their leaves. A few of these leaves waltz as they fall to the ground, mimicking butterflies. Some of them shoot straight down- resembling the fall of a sparrow. Some others drop off without any fuss as if making a statement of their free will. They fall alone, they fall in clusters. On reaching the ground they crawl or roll or pirouette, as the wind blows. They are ready to be swept away. They are ready to cushion every walker’s feet. They offer themselves up as fodder for grubs or as walls for nests.
The leaves have apparently outlived their use for the trees. But a mere glimpse of some trees after leaf fall would tell a different story. In the parks and streets of Bengaluru, the gold tree (the Tabebuia) has burst into bloom. There is spectacular display of yellow flowers on the branches where green leaves once preened themselves.
Tender, russet leaves, glistening in the sun changed into firm no-nonsense matrons and got busy with trapping light and sap and churning out the season’s flavours. And all the while the tree nourished itself – flexing its limbs, reaching further, higher. The leaves let the little birds hide in their folds while they sang. Maybe it makes for better resonance. They allowed cattle a luscious bite of themselves while they could still get at them. The foliage on trees symbolise a state of wellbeing in the vicinity. In their prime, the canopies spread out like hands raised in blessing. But even the leaves that lie scattered on the ground, with the silhouettes of their veins and capillaries visible, reflect some of the light they had captured once. Whether crisp or limp they look ready for another innings.
In the forests, the soil from which the leaves sprouted welcome them back. The leaves that claimed a piece of the sky now make a bed for themselves on the ground to rest comfortably. They journey back to enrich the soil and perhaps whisper tales of the wind and the sky and the light. No wonder the ancient Hindu philosophers held up the ideal of a dried leaf,which is content to be blown about by the wind to describe the wisest of the detached sages.
It is evident that there is a lot going on around, in the most insignificant of things, than what the senses perceive and what utilitarian concerns would admit. Treating fallen leaves as garbage and setting fire to them, is both thoughtless and short sighted. Dry leaves are a valuable resource as every school student would testify. If they cannot be allowed to remain where they have fallen they should be buried in pits where while they disintegrate, they transform into valuable compost and manure. It is time to realise that fallen leaves still have a journey to complete and some further work to do. To make them vanish in a gust of smoke is to deprive the earth of that which would gladly merge and blend with it and maybe resurface once again in the blades of grass.