Equanimity

It’s not the time of year that I expect to see leaves falling. And these leaves don’t look anything like the ones that fall in autumn. Yet here they are, nestled into one of the many crooks of this Hornbeam tree. Why did they fall? Wind perhaps? They look green and young and, if I can anthropomorphize, at the beginning of their journey, rather than the end.

But it is the end.

I guess we never know, do we? What we expect to be a beginning might turn into an end, untimely though we may decide it is. I’m learning that routine and predictability are human inventions; it is not as common in the natural world.

Perhaps this is my metaphor for equanimity, for quiet acceptance of whatever circumstances arise. Or perhaps it’s simply a comfortable, graceful image. Either way is OK with me.