Leaves birth and death are a metaphor for our life: born as buds, they soon become light green, indicating spring; then they transform into different shapes of bright-green: it's summer. In a few months summer becomes autumn. From a ...See moreLeaves birth and death are a metaphor for our life: born as buds, they soon become light green, indicating spring; then they transform into different shapes of bright-green: it's summer. In a few months summer becomes autumn. From a stunning mixture of pink, orange, red, and yellow, leaves start rotting. They fall, leaving the trees naked, barren. Then the snow falls, covering the ground and trees in white, like a shroud. It's winter, it's the death of leaves. They don't know that the new leaves will come soon. Their world is gone forever. And the new leaves too won't know anything about the old ones, like the new-born babies don't know and don't care about old people dead or dying. Written by
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