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Monday, October 26, 2009
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It strikes me that leaves in autumn are of course beautiful, but they're really dying. But they're beautiful.
Suppose that aging is like this. Suppose that dying is like this.
It feels to me that with their last breath the leaves take every opportunity to clap in worship...while they're falling off the tree.
What was a canopy while young is now translucent - and we can see through them to the sky.
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