Susurration Of The Leaves

J Jim Yerman Jim Yerman
0 Altın Yaprak
Sitting on the porch of our cabin…protected by the eaves surrounded by the forest I'm acutely aware of the susurration of the leaves. How together as they sway a little on the branches of the trees I can hear their rhythmic beauty…urged and prompted by the breeze. Most of the sounds are onomatopoeic…as the wind invisibly passes through I hear the leaves not only swish and rustle…but whisper to one another too. If I listen closely I can hear exactly what they have to say how they thank the tree…the sun…and greet other leaves to start their day. And with Fall approaching…bathed in morning light I hear the leaves comment on how their colors have changed a little over night. I remain silent…keeping all my thoughts within… for I do not want the leaves to know that I am listening in. I hear the younger leaves…whose colors have already turned… and who are feeling a bit appalled… ask the older leaves…still green…"What is it like to fall? " And I hear the older leaves whisper…as they look the young ones in their eyes… "You will not be falling." They tell them. "For a few moments….you will fly." "And after gliding for a moment…you will land softly on the ground so softly that, when you land, you will not make a sound." I've been lucky to watch and listen with my ears and with my eyes to be there…to be a witness…when a young leaf learns to fly. And if I listen closely…as it breaks from the safety of the tree one of the most beautiful sounds of Autumn is a young leaf crying….Wheeeee!

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