It is finally Fall here in the cemetery, and the abundance of reds, oranges, and yellows amongst the trees is absolutely enchanting! I adore the colors of Autumn, and each year they still amaze me. However, it occurred to me recently that the love that everyone seems to have for these vibrant hues is proof that we are all, on some level, in love with Death.
Allow me to explain: You see, the leaves only change color as they slowly die. When they have withered into the seasonal tones we all love so much, they eventually break loose from the tree and fall to the ground. Hence the alternative name for Autumn: Fall. As humanity is collectively oooh-ing and aaah-ing over the changing colors, what is actually being witnessed is the touching of the leaves by Death. People are mesmerized by the sight of something dying. I have always said there is beauty in Death, and now you know it’s true. The demise of the leaves brings about the wondrous shades of Fall, our eyes become transfixed by these shades, and we applaud the workings of Death divine.
You had no idea you were so macabre, did you? Well, my lovely, you are. We all are. Especially during the Autumn season. We revel in Death’s artwork as It paints the landscape with a fatal touch; cold, bony fingers creating brush strokes of red, orange, and yellow across the trees with a vision both alluring and morbid. The forests become a makeshift cemetery for the fallen leaves, their remains scattered by the cool breeze and the feet of passersby. When you walk along a leaf-strewn path, you are dancing among these remains, spreading the ashes of Spring and Summer.
So, take that thought with you. There is beauty in Death, and we are all a bit macabre in our own way. Embrace the artwork of Death. Breathe it in. Death paints with a gifted hand, and it deserves appreciation. Until next time…