In fall mornings are
cold and dark, so I wait until afternoon to go out for a jog. The warmest time of the day is around 5 pm, mincha time. The trees run the whole lifespan from fresh
and green to colorful yellow-orange-red pallet to bare naked. There are more and more bare branches every
day, and I would expect them to appear sad, lonely, miserable, but they are
not. The setting sun lights the tops of
the trees and the bare branches appear glowing, spread upwards towards the
bright autumn sky, stark and clear, without obstacles of the leaves, shining
freedom. They look simple and free
compared to their colorful neighbors burdened with the baggage of leaves,
desperately trying to keep them despite the inevitable fall. I stand still gazing
at the lace of bare branches, absorbing its sharp beauty, inhaling the spirit
of freedom, of nothingness. The new moon
- Rosh Chodesh Marcheshvan.
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