It’s December in Texas and I have been watching leaves turn bright red, yellow and soft brown for weeks.  But, now the wind is taking the leaves away from their mother trees and I feel the sorrow of the trees’ loss.

When I was a child, one of my fondest memories happened when the leaves were falling from great cypress and pecan trees along the river banks of the Guadalupe River in the Texas hill country. My parents had a little cabin just outside of Comfort, TX. that we used as a get-away from the hectic city life of San Antonio.  We spent many summer days and nights at the cabin and even when the weather began to change, we took extra blankets on the porch where our bunk beds were kept, and snuggled up for the night.  

In the fall when the leaves fell from the trees, my family and I would make our way down to the old River Mill on the Guadalupe River. The great trees were a sight to see with millions of leaves falling. We would gather the leaves into huge piles and then run and jump into them with great glee! The cold didn’t seem to affect us as we continued to build the stacks of dead leaves over and over again so we could plunge our bodies with abandonment into them!  We had great fun!

But one time I looked up into the trees as I laid on my back on the ground and saw one of the most beautiful sights I’ve ever seen.  

As the leaves drifted down through the glittering sun light, the butterflies hidden in the trees suddenly decided it was their time to take off! Millions of butterflies intermingled with the falling leaves and sunshine and rose up in the opposite direction of the falling leaves.  It was majestic! The tall stream of sunlight seemed to capture this double act of nature … butterflies rising in all their glory and leaves falling to their death on the ground below. It was a natural beginning and ending in the same space and time with such glorious colors and sounds.  The reds, yellows, and iridescent blues of the butterfly wings reflected in the streaming sunlight, coupled with the incredible sound of the rustling leaves as they were tossed by the howling wind. I was in awe of this experience and never forgot it.

Now I reminisce about that day while driving my little dog Punkin through neighborhoods of trees turning colors. I wonder now if the trees cry when their leaves begin to fall away after enjoying a summer together in the warmth of the sun and the soft breezes teasing them into a dance of their own making.  Perhaps I am thinking of my own life and the losses I have felt in recent history that makes me empathic to the trees. I cry as I think of the loss of my husband, my dog Doogie and my lifelong friend Angela as if they were my leaves falling away from me too. Do the trees think of the beautiful summer days they spent in the company of their dancing baby leaves like I think about the many days I spent in the company of my loved ones? 

Do the leaves, like me, think those summer days would never end? Does the mother tree know instinctively that they will? 

After all, it is the nature of all living things to begin and end. And I really do think that sorrow falls on the limbs of all, so why shouldn’t the mother trees cry when their baby leaves begin their transformation? It’s a natural process but ever, ever so painful. Perhaps for the trees and me we are left only with our sweet and unforgettable memories of those precious days gone by. 

As do the trees, I will carry on through the winter months of my life. They have taught me to cherish every moment with all my loved ones, both living and dead. Each season has a purpose and a beauty all its own… a time to rise and a time to fall. And embracing each moment is so precious to me. Whether it’s a moment of “rising” or “falling” I’m looking forward to it all. And when spring comes, I’ll be watching with the trees for all the new experiences of life to follow as the warm weather and soft breezes encourages the growth of the dance of life to reveal itself once again.

Snickerdoodles 

3 3/4 cups all-purpose flour

1/2 teaspoon baking soda

1/2 teaspoon cream of tartar

1/2 teaspoon salt

1 cup butter or margarine

2 cups sugar

2 eggs

1/4 cup milk

1 teaspoon vanilla

3 tablespoons sugar

1 teaspoon ground cinnamon

1. Grease a cookie sheet. 
2. Stir together flour, soda, cream of tartar, and 1/2 teaspoon salt. 
3. Beat butter for 30 seconds; add the 2 cups sugar and beat till fluffy. Add eggs, milk, and vanilla; beat well. 
4. Add dry ingredients to beaten mixture, beating till well combined. 
5. Form dough into 1 inch balls; roll in a mixture of the 3 tablespoons sugar and the cinnamon. 
6. Place balls 2 inches apart on a cookie sheet; flatten slightly with the bottom of a drinking glass that has been dipped in the sugar. 
7. Bake in a 375 degree oven about 8-10 minutes or till light golden. 

Makes about 66.

INSPIRATION:

LET US HAVE FAITH

By Helen Keller

Security is mostly a superstition.

It does not exist in nature,

nor do the children of men as a whole experience it.

Avoiding danger is no safer in the long run than outright exposure.

Life is either a daring adventure, or nothing.

To keep our faces toward change and behave like free spirits

in the presence of fate is strength undefeatable.