During this time of sheltering at home, I’ve been blessed to be able to lose myself on long walks in the woods of Rock Creek Park, just a block and a half from our house in the Crestwood neighborhood of Washington, DC. Given the timing of the pandemic, I’ve borne witness to the circle of life on these walks – as buds emerged from trees and grasses from the earth, as leaves broke open and wild flowers bloomed, and finally as the canopy turned brilliant shades of red and orange while leaves fell to the brown earth below.
Last week, as I finished a 2-hour hike, before I emerged out of the forest and back into our neighborhood, I stopped to absorb the beauty of the moment. It was so quiet, so still, that I could actually hear the soft snap of leaves as they broke from their limbs and then floated to the ground. It struck me in that moment, that perhaps our lives are like the leaves of trees. We emerge from something greater than us, we live for a brief season, and then we die. Once we break from this earth, perhaps we just float around a bit and then rejoin with what gave us life in the in the first place.
On today’s walk, as I sometimes found it hard to find the path in front of me because it was so strewn with leaves, I listened to the final moments of the book “Just Kids” on Audible. If you’re not familiar with it, it’s the beautiful story of Patti Smith and Robert Mapplethorpe’s relationship as remembered by Patti. After Patti shares the story of Robert’s death from AIDS in 1989, she reads aloud the lyrics to her song, “Wild Leaves.” Her reading of the poem became intertwined with my reflection of last week. I became lost not only in the woods, in the leaves, but in Patti’s words and in my own thoughts.
Because the song ultimately reminds us that our brief lives have meaning, I felt compelled to share it with anyone who might be interested.
Wild leaves are falling
Falling to the ground
Every leaf a moment
A light upon the crown
That we’ll all be wearing
In a time unbound
And wild leaves are falling
Falling to the ground
Every word that’s spoken
Every word decreed
Every spell that’s broken
Every golden deed
All the parts we’re playing
Binding as the reed
And wild leaves are falling
Wild wild leaves
As the campfire’s burning
As the fire ignites
All the moments turning
In the stormy bright
Well enough the churning
When enough believe
The coming and the going
Wild wild leaves
Wild wild leaves
Wild wild leaves
This pandemic has claimed the lives of so many people and will leave an indelible mark on all of us. My prayer is that in the quiet of these times, even as creation welcomes home the souls lost to this world, we are all reminded of the significance of life, that we search for and find our path, that what we say and do matters, and, most importantly, that we live wildly while we can.
