Nature, in my neck of the woods, is playing Holi right now……or dying, however you want to think about it. I chuckled as I thought of dying. Never did I ever think of death when leaves changed colors in past years. Since last year the thought of death lingers in my mind like a constant. Not in a scary way, more in an ‘absolute truth’ way.
The leaves turn red, they fall, they turn to dust, and then they return again. Each year they come back in new form. As I thought of resurrection, I wished the same happened with our loved ones – except I want them to come back in their old form, as my ma and baba. They, of course, don’t come back to us in a tangible form, but their essence remains imprinted on us, within us. Life goes on in its own rhythm.
The idea of resurrection brings such hope to both the religious and non religious. Our physical life is finite, but the soul perhaps recycles in some form. Or it becomes one with nature and radiates the beauty that surrounds us.
I thought of this as I walked around my neighborhood marveling at the gorgeous colors on the trees.
On a separate note, our county planted a baby elm tree at the edge of our property to compensate for the dead oak tree that they had to cut down last summer. Sahana and I disagree over naming our bald, and if I am honest, quite bare and unassuming baby tree. I want to call it Elmo and Sahana wants to name it Freddie Krueger from Nightmare on Elm Street.
You vote!!
whatmamathinks 
Elmo!! Loved your thoughtful write-up.. As always.
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Love you.
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