Fall Mist

I committed myself to an exploration of discovery in the forest; all the noise in my mind went away.  I liked being on a path from Someplace to Somewhere Else.  A rough-hewn path along a creek led me in this direction deep into the forest; I did not know what to expect.  It led me to a wonderful and unexpected clearing marked by several barren trees – their leaves covered the ground in a Kashmir rug of brilliant reds.

A handful of young trees full of red leaves did not know that they were expected to contribute to the material of the rug; they were surrounded by barren trees.  Their leaves, stubborn and proud, were not ready to give up their dances with the breeze.  Further out, other trees were obscured by mists that rose from the forest floor or clouds that reached down from the heavens.  The smokiness of mist or greying of cloud shrouded the forest beyond my immediate view in their protections of blessings or mysterious secrets.  The forest burned in the colors of flame; the mist or cloud were its smoke of consumption.  Yet, the only fire here was in the fire of my heart, the fire of discovery, the fire of my evolving life, and the fire of the ever-changing forest all around me.  What lay underneath those coverings of mist or cloud?

I liked the Somewhere Else that the end of this day brought me to.  It was serene and comforting.  It was a Where that was filled with spiritual energy.  I thought of Kashmiri Folklore that teaches how a home is incomplete without a soul; however, a Kashmir rug is thought to bring the entire home together into complete oneness.  It acts as the unifying source of the house’s soul.  In a way, I felt that the Kashmir rug of leaves I sat upon acted as the unifying source of the forest’s soul – and mine as I was just as much a part of the forest as the trees and their leaves this evening.  I slowed my breathing and felt my heart slow as well – a sense of complete peace and satisfaction came over me.

An age old question asked by philosophers and little children crossed my mind: If a tree in the forest fell and no one was around to hear it, does it make a sound?  Tonight I was a guest in the forest and if that tree fell, I supposed I would hear it unless it fell on me.  But none of that mattered; I was happy and I would wear the face of discovery in a peaceful sleep this evening.