A friend who was staying over remarked that the golden leaves of the deciduous trees kept making him think that the sun was out and shining. When he glanced out of the window, he would again be tricked into thinking the day was blue and sunny despite the unceasing rain.
And of course, in one way, he wasn't being tricked with sunlight having been once used to make the leaves to begin with. Preserved Sunlight. A wonderous thing.
The weeping birch tree in my yard, with its fine, delicate leaves is like a spire of dappled sunlight against the grey sky. It is a fifty foot lightning rod, though in this case, a sunlight rod, that is channeling the gold energy of sunlight back into the earth.
How fitting for the coming of winter and the darker days ahead. When the last gold leaf falls, I shall imagine the earth below storing and holding the golden energy for the greeness of spring.
In this way, my weeping birch is a reminder of the continuous flow of energy, energy that changes, transforms and transmutes.
