The morning after Thansgiving, I looked across the courtyard and witnessed my neighbor's lovely red maple releasing her crimson leaves like a sea creature releasing untold numbers of eggs.
She seemed to be eagerly letting them go. It made me think of aging and mortality. As our enevitable deaths approach, we should rejoice in what we have accomplished and even more so in what we have tried to accomplish. And, let go of all the rest, the excess baggage of recrimination and regret.
The tree doesn't discriminate among her leaves, the perfect and the flawed are released in equal measure.
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