| Big Wind Day |
10/16/2007 |
by Jon
October 16th had finally come, the first of the seasons three “Big Wind” days. The aroma in the air, and the recent whispers from the last few days twilight said it was near, and so now it had finally come. Fresh sunlight peaked over the auburn hills of autumn as the gusts that began around 2 a.m. began to grow more harsh and powerful. There was not a cloud in the sky, but today, it would rain none the less.
“Up and awake son.” His father said, as he teetered like a seesaw in the wind. “Today is a day like no other, and you must be awake too see it all.”
Unlike his father, who was a pale red with dark yellow edges, he was a bright green, fresh, new, and unaffected by the fall seasons temperature drop. He opened his eyes and bent upwards, letting a light breeze carry him into an upright position to view his father.
“What is so important about today father?”
“Today my son, is the first of three very important and respectful days for us. Today is a mighty wind day, the first of three for the season.”
“There is wind everyday father. It feels no colder outside, what has changed?” He looked into the older leafs’ dark brown eyes.
“As the time turns each year,” he told his son. “We, along with our brothers and sisters, make our great leap. Marking the end of growth and the beginning of the seasons. You have seen this already.”
“You mean when all those friends of our tree fell last week.” The son said bending down to face the branch he was rooted in. “You mean when mother fell.”
“Yes, and what did I tell you when she leaped?”
“That there comes a time for us all, when we grow cold and fragile, a time to meet the soil from which our great tree rose. That we are marked in time by the colors we shine as the season grows towards snow and the cold”
“And then onto spring.” His father interrupted. “Where new brothers and sisters rise from our great tree to reflect the sun and fill the world with new light and life.”
“Light and life.” His son repeated.
“So we began, and so we must end.” His father said smiling. Then repeated “today is a great day.”
Just then an uproarious gust of wind swept through the leaves like a child dashing through a maze he as long since discovered the answer too. On the heels of this wind rose and tossed a chorus of yellow shaded leaves, a fruit bowl of pale and bright sunlit paper speckled with vibrant dark crimson of some leaves, and the dead brown edges of others. The wind swept past the father and his son, surrounding them, drowning out all sound but the rustle and crack of each piece of foliage that flew by. They heard screams of joy and fare well wishes, most comments too jumbled by wind and words to truly be heard or revered.
“Goodbye, goodbye!” The green leaf shouted as the last of the winds children singed past him and along the winds current. “Goodbye, life and light, light and life my friends!”
His father laughed and turned from his son to look as more leaves from other trees were torn from branches that served as their homes, and went crying off into the fresh day. Some were torn so abruptly their stems snapped, tossing from side to side along the branch they were still attached too, while their owners moved on.
A groan rose from just behind them. Both father and son turned around. On their branch, two feet from them was a brown leaf. Along his body were holes where various bugs and drops of water had pierced it over the course of the past summer. The tips of his body were a deep faded orange. He looked all around seeing the father and his son but just as a glance, to him he saw nothing but time grow old. The small gusts combing the branches' surface tossed him back and forth. The son shuttered as he felt the cool breeze meet him, along with a raw feeling of inevitability.
“Those who do not leap on their own.”, his father said, “Are aided by the big wind, brushing them off their branches and into a new life.”
“I thought everyone leaped father.”
“No, not everyone, many fight it. They wait and wait with dreams of evading the season and living on their branches forever. They don’t want to go, don’t want to face what they do not know, but we all must face it. I will face it soon and so will you, not now of course, for you are young and still green. However, it is important for you to see this and know that when it is your time to leap that you are giving way to larger and fresher things in the world than yourself."
A louder groan came from the older leaf, both father and son looked up as the root of the dying things' stem began to tear at the seam where it met the branch. Still the old leafs' eyes fluttered around him. Whether he was ready to go or not, his eyes did not say.
Then he leaped.
He fell over the side as a new fresh wind finished the job, severing him from all he had ever known. He fluttered down, end over end as the ground came to meet him. He landed in a healthy pile of orange leaves mixed with some abandoned pinecones. The young green leaf stared at the old leaf and tried to read his eyes. But before he could, the pile was overturned by the big wind, and the dark leaf disappeared.
All day they watched the big wind. Brothers, sisters, friends, daughters, uncles, and grandfathers swept away by an invisible hand. The sun shone on the celebrating leaves as they cheered their loved ones and said goodbye weeping. They said farewell and waited to see if they should leave their home on this day, the first big wind day of the season.
“When do you think you will leap father?” His son asked, as midday ended and the sun began it’s long descent to hide among the mountains.
“Maybe 2nd or 3rd wind, whenever I feel it in my heart that it is time to fly and that you are ready to head this life on your own.”
“I’m scared father.” He said
“As all green leaves are, but from fear and experience comes knowledge and that is all you will need.”
Just then a large wind, the largest of the day, roared through the land tearing away wavering leaves and sending them on their way. The green leaf was violently pulled forward and just below its healthy stem a slight tear creased it’s brilliant edge.
When the wind had passed, the leaves settled back noisily to their previous positions. The world fell silent once more.
“It’s getting colder” the son remarked.
His father shivered in agreement and turned his head to the north, a noise was erupting from the hills far ahead. He squinted his eyes and saw a vast number of trees in that direction flutter violently, the branches careening back and forth.
“Look son. A mighty gust approaches our tree!” The father shouted
The son turned and also squinted his eyes to witness the oncoming tide.
At that moment a chorus composed of a thousand leaves leaped from all around them. Screams of joy and acceptance were heard. Realization that this oncoming gust would bring them forth no matter how much they fought. As the gust slipped through the trees coming closer to their home, the son turned, but said nothing. Only looked at the wiser being he had always known as father. He wondered what it would be like to face the sun and wind without him by his side. Maybe this very gust would be the one to cause their departure.
Then it hit.
Like an oncoming surge of power and sound, it tore throughout the tree bending every branch and leaf in it’s forwarding direction. Even the thick roots of the tree rose and shook under the tremendous pressure. The sons’ now fragile stem tore violently and detached from the branch.
He hung in the air for a moment, silhouetted by his shadow on the branch, and then he tumbled over backwards and fell onto his back beside his father, the branch of the tree running up the sons’ body like a makeshift spine. He called for his friend and for a moment his father could only look on shocked, his mouth a small o, unseen by his sons flailing eyes.
“Father, what happened?!” He screamed.
“You have torn my son.” He still looked at him in disbelief.
“I’m going to fall father. I’m going to fall.”
A tear, left over from a long past spring rain, creased the fathers face and flowed down his body until it reached a crinkled vein and trailed down following the life lines indented path. “You’re not going to fall my love.” He said. “You’re going to leap.” The leaf he considered his son mouthed the word no and slipped silently over the edge.
He fell quickly and unemotionally to the ground. His father watched him go his face blank. He turned away just as the leaf touched the ground, a speck of spring green in a sea of autumn.
“For life and light.” His father whispered, and turned to face the big wind.
|
 |
 |
|
