The Burning Of The leaves.

Shadows of a thousand years rise again unseen, voices whisper in the trees. The night of Halloween – when seasons change. It’s that time of the year. Trees lose their leaves and the gardener has begun to sweep them up into heaps in the compound – burning them. The smoke, drifting through trees, looks like mist. An evocative fragrance hangs in the breeze. Soon there w ill be a nip in the air, and then the atmosphere will be perfect, till the crackers start to burst heralding the festive season and the dawn of a new year. The burning of the leaves emphasizes, not the salvation of the believer’s death, but the cleansing of the personal spirit, almost as if that is all that can be done, even by people of goodwill. “Now is the time for stripping the spirit bare Time for the days ended and done… The world that was ours is a world that is ours no more… Earth cares for her ruins, naught for ours Nothing is certain, only the certain spring.- Robert Laurence Binyon-