Silent Leaves

Posted on October 27, 2010


Sometimes I’l just sit and try to clean my brain out. I was doing that this morning. There really wasn’t anything new in it, yet. I didn’t remember any cool dream. I hadn’t spoken to anyone  because it was 4 am and most of my friends and family were still sleeping. So, I sat and stared out the kitchen window waiting to see what would inspire me today. Through the darkness my eyes adjusted to the leaves silently falling from the trees in my back yard. They just kept falling.

No pattern. No noise. No evidence that they’d ever been anywhere but in their final resting place.

Unless someone picked one up, studied it to identify what type it was it would always be another leaf to add to the cleanup pile. Their descent would’ve gone unnoticed had I not been there to witness it. That was both profound yet tragic.

Contemplating the thought I’d been given it also made me feel somewhat responsible to all of the memories in my life. I was there for all of them. I’m the only one who experienced them the way that I did. To talk about them is to give meaning to them. Some of them are funny, others can and always will make me cry. All of them make me who I am. Unless I share them they will always be like silent leaves.

So, I’ll share those moments bit by bit as they make their way from the back of my brain, through the many new events that may have colored the original experience, and somehow present them unfiltered and pure. My goal is to leave as complete a journal of my life as I can to family. and old and new friends and to share just how those things changed me


Betsy Cross

Posted in: Uncategorized