Hanging On.

I love early morning walks on the weekend. The quiet, combined with the smells of dew and grass, puts me in another world, a better world than what I see online or in traffic, or in crowded spaces. To be sure, if I look, I can find messages in all of those noisy places but there’s something about the simplicity and beauty of a morning in nature that brings clarity. This morning I kept seeing little leaves hanging on the strands of spider webs, dangling in open space, almost like they were floating.

The first I encountered was actually a conglomeration of leaves and I almost hit it. For a second I was grossed out because despite recognizing the beauty of spider silk and its pretty amazing properties (it’s stronger than steel), I get the heebie jeebies from its sticky, clingy presence. As I continued my walk though, and kept seeing single leaves dangling from trees, I kept thinking about hanging on…to thoughts, situations, people.

Each leaf that twisted in the breeze in front of me was already dead. They were leaves that the trees had shed, meant to be on the ground so that they could be crushed up into the soil and return to nourish other life, and yet they couldn’t because something kept them from release. I’ve talked a little about my struggle with letting things go, so this morning’s walk theme seemed apropos to my life.

I definitely have some dead leaves ready to nourish new beginnings that need to be let go from my life. So as the autumn shed begins, so does mine. No hanging on allowed.

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