Dry Leaves



Leaves are underfoot everywhere as I walk Finn around the neighborhood sidewalks.  Some of them, the maples, crunch loudly.  Others, the ginkgoes, are as soft as tissues, and make no sound at all as I walk over them.  But many leaves are still hanging onto their trees.  I almost said, hanging on "for dear life," but the leaves, as soon as they begin to take on their fall colors, have already given up their leaf-life.  Now they will take up their new life, their compost-life, as they decay and return their nutrients to the soil.  Every part of their life-cycle has a purpose.

Do we pay attention to the changing seasons in our lives?  Are we aware that each season in our life-cycle has its own purpose?  What is you life's special purpose now at this approaching Advent season?   What is you life's special purpose now, at whatever season of your life you find yourself in?


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