The Quiet Maple

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The Quiet Maple

Postby Aphritha » 09 Aug 2015, 23:58

Lammas has hardly parted. The humidity weighs heavily in the early morning heat as the moisture from last night's

thundershower rises up and evaporates. Cicadas drone their constant song in the background, a noise one soon takes for

granted and allows to turn to white noise in these early August days. Gardens abound heavy with fruits and vegetables;

tomato plants wilt their lower leaves, meanwhile producing ever reddening orbs near the top.
A maple sprawls out in the churchyard, offering a place of respite for anyone passing by. A beautiful specimen of life,

green leaves aplenty, she stands silently, watching the congregation pile in. An old woman passes her by, dressed in her

best with a peaceful, yet stern, look decorating her face. She slips inside the door, noting today it seems a bit heavier

than last time. Soundlessly, the maple drops a leaf. Its yellowed magnificence falls to the earth's floor. Once a

splendid example of curves and angles of a maple leaf, its day has come today to be discarded, to begin it's journey into

something different; food for the earth and her creatures. The maple makes a quiet observation of it, much like the woman

observing her waning strength.
A man walks up quickly, looking down, his hands firmly planted in his pockets. He looks none too pleased, but continues

on his way, anyways. You see, he grew up in this church, in this institution of what he thought was God. He watches the

news, he reads the headlines, and he just can't be sure anymore. He isn't sure there's a God at all, and if there is,

he's very doubtful that he's in this building. But, he isn't comfortable with these thoughts yet. He doesn't want anyone

to know. He looks at the door, and decides he'll go inside today. But maybe not next week. He needs some time to think.

And with his acceptance of his loss of faith, the maple drops another yellowed leaf.
A young girl approaches with her family. Her dark hair glistens in the hot summer's sun as she mindlessly follows her

parents into the brick building, her thoughts a thousand miles from her head. "Griselda!" a voice calls out from

somewhere behind her. She smiles and stops walking, her mother and father casually leaving her behind. A blond haired

boy with a few freckles runs to catch up with her, and they begin enthusiastically talking amongst themselves. The maple

had watched the girl be brought into the church some twelve years ago as an infant in white, leaving again amidst a happy

family. But the boy had shown up sometime during the winter a few years ago, and the two had become fast friends,

sometimes allowing the maple to shield them from the sun's rays as they played and chatted. But today something was

different, and the girl wasn't sure why but today she felt suddenly self conscious with her old friend, becoming terribly

aware of the dirt on her yellow shoe, and just as aware of the glimmer in the boy's sparkling blue eyes. She didn't

understand why, but just walking along next to her friend wasn't enough today, she wanted to touch him, to hold his hand

in hers. She repressed such silly thoughts and a shiver ran through her as she turned with him to go into the church.

She pauses and looks up at the maple, watching a pretty yellow leaf float to the ground. She can't know the tree has

released it in honor of her, a symbol of the innocence of childhood, falling away to become something more.
And one by one, they file in, each with his own worries, each with her own concerns. The old, the young, they all have

something that falls away, that changes. Nothing stays the same, and neither does the tree, beginning to shed this year's

coat so next year's can grow in as luxurious as before. After the service, last year's babies play in the fallen leaves,

while some of the children from the year before sit quietly on the sidelines. There are some new faces, and some faces

have gone, departed to go the way of the leaves fallen to the ground. A breeze blows and the maple sways in joy and

peace, knowing love and beauty can only come through release. A few more leaves carry on through the wind.

This was something I was inspired to write this morning, noticing the maple in our churchyard has already started to turn for the fall...

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Re: The Quiet Maple

Postby Carbonscorpion » 11 Aug 2015, 11:23

Thank you for sharing, a timely illustration of constant transformation in life. :)

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Re: The Quiet Maple

Postby illion » 13 Aug 2015, 05:19

This was really beautiful! Thank you for sharing :)

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