Sandy Stirs My Thoughts

This is what we see every Fall.

When I look out of the corner widow of my apartment I see the trees.  Many are full of dark green and lightly golden leaves from the summer that just passed. Other trees bear small patches of rust-colored leaves on their uppermost branches. The trees are all different sizes and shapes. Two of the tallest seem as if they are trying to hold up the sky.  Truly, it is a majestic sight—one that is rare for this time of year.  And it is rarer still in that I feel that view is there only for me.

This morning I can see that the top of these very same trees appear to be dancing in the wind. After a night of constant light rain, the branches are haphazardly swaying through each passing gust of wind. The green and lightly golden leaves are spiraling; then starting to move to and fro, then up and down. They then all come to a rest until the next gust, when the whole dance starts all over again.

Occasionally, stronger and quicker bursts of wind cause the thicker and older trees to bend, then unbend. It’s sort-of like the big trees were arm-wrestling with the wind and each was too mighty to lose. It’s a draw.

While the trees are moving about, thicker raindrops tear through the leaves and unhinge many to flutter in the breeze to the ground below.

“So far so good,” I think to myself.  My view of the trees is still intact. But what of the approaching storm with winds strong enough to unearth the strongest of trees?  Is it right that nature destroys nature? But what of my view?

Then I realize my answer:  Of course it is right that nature destroys nature.  It’s just starting to recycle itself.

Besides, I think, maybe once renewed, my view will be even more spectacular.