Voices on the Wind Voices on Relaxation
October 13, a Monday by Janet Barry On this long, silent day I am watching a leaf fall from the moosewood tree. I am not sad about it. I have put the laundry in and read the paper. There are thirteen ways to interpret the path of a leaf - the first is to look at gold changing to not-gold; no-longer-gold which is very much like the other twelve; no-longer-green or mottled or brown, no-longer-formed to be plateau or shelter or food, insect haven, wind dancer no-longer-suspended between air and branch. I have paid some bills and answered a few emails. There are thirteen letters in my full name - each a small scratch on a sheet of white. I repeat them to myself, over-and-over until the lines and curves, loops and dots blur into silence on this no-longer day.