The leaves are budding on the trees in front of me. I wonder if they've captured enough energy from the sun to endure the cold this coming weekend. It rained this morning, so the wood is darkened, black branches in deep contrast with the naive little leaves. Baby buds, their whole life ahead of them, were thrust into the world by the labor of mother nature. They are inexperienced. They are still bright and clean. At least they have each other to weather the coming months together until winter claims every last one. But they also have the roots to nourish them. The roots are ages older than they. Maybe the tree in its wisdom has warned these newbies what to expect. I'm sure it tells them about storms, the risk of lightning. About drought, and starving. Probably they know about the insects already. Some that help. Some that hinder.
Maybe the leaves are so bright because this is their moment to shine. These are glamour days, then the testing begins. Finally, in their golden years, they give another show. After trials make them hearty, they can show off the beauty of wisdom in their life's final act.
So, it's not so bad to be a little leaf. Green and full of energy, their glory is yet ahead of them.
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