IT HAPPENED THREE YEARS ago, in October. I was walking with Zsa-Zsa, or rather I was walking down a grassy road on the property and she was being a Shetland sheepdog exploring the lefts and rights of the road, checking to make sure the squirrels were properly where they belonged, in the trees instead of on the ground, that the sparrows were in the sky and not resting on the grass. that all the mice had their little passports to travel the covered mini-roads over the meadow.
Winter would be here, and ZZ would soon have to taste the snowflakes, check out the footprints of raccoons, watch eagles shake their frost and fly from the tallest trees.
There was a grand maple tree along the road, and my boots crunched a thousand leaves on the ground. The leaves on the tree were dying, too. Seasons, I thought, they bring gentle deaths to so much of nature, and they ready our days for new life, too.
The next step, I stopped. For there on the road among all the dead leaves was a leaf that was perfectly green, a song of summer past. I picked it up, and the one next to it. I could hardly believe, so I took my little phone-camera and took a picture.
How strange! Every other leaf, every one on the ground, was dried and brown. The one, as though it was linked ever to eternal life, glowed in the road.
What a remarkable sight. I put it down again, and continued my walk with Zsa-Zsa. She was out of sight, but of course she know exactly where I was. How did that leaf stay so green?
I wandered in the forest, but I couldn’t get the leaf out of my mind. There must be some reason… I never much cared for biology, I didn’t know what had happened to this leaf. I must have thought it was green, a few minutes ago. I didn’t imagine it green, did I? Finally I turned home again, hiked back up the road, found the tree, saw the leaf. The same leaf. I picked it up from the road, brought it home, protected it from ZZ, who wanted to inspect it carefully.
I put the two leaves on the table. They stayed there. Months later, the snow swirling, drifting out the window, the leaf stayed, untouched by dogs or nature. In time, it began to dry. I picked it up, and part of the leaf shattered, fell to the floor.
Something happened somehow, a sheepdog may have gotten onto the table and curious, touched it with a paw, when it fractured into a hundred of pieces.
Still, I had made another photograph:
Then today, I had an email from Madrid, from Amelia Lopez at the website. She had been healed miraculously, she thought, and she had read The Biology of Belief by Bruce Lipton. I thought to tell her about the leaf, and she wrote back:
“Wow! The leaf! I thought that only happened to human beings! They say that happens to humans whose vibrations are really high, their bodies remain intact for a long time when they die, it seems their cells are impregnated with their high vibrations! I never thought it could happen to leaves, too! Is it possible that this was a leaf whose life was dedicated to Love? Can Love alter the cycle of Mortal Life? Can Love affect atoms and cells in such a way that in ecstasies they forget what they have to do when they die? That time stops for them and they remain as they are? Are you aware of the little miracle you kept at home?
“And you say you are not fascinated by Biology! In what way can vibrations of a leaf be that high? Maybe, aware of danger, she bent one day to save the life of a little caterpillar. I have heard that plants suffer fear, or experience joy. They are sensitive to all the emotions around them, you can register fear with electrodes when you approach them with a sharp object. If they can feel fear, can they feel Love? Was your leaf a loving one?
“It is amazing. How lucky you are! How lucky she is! She fell just where you would find her, you, the one being who would notice, so her loving life did not disappear into oblivion. The vibrations of those beings are so high that they affect also those of the ones around them, maybe your little leaf can help you raise your own awareness. Wait a minute! Isn’t she doing it just know? Yours and mine?“
I wrote back to Amelia:
“I walk by that tree. This year, not a single green leaf remains! Lots and lots, seas of brown leaves. I can only agree with you, that it was that leaf’s love, her bending to save the life of a caterpillar that let the love of the Universe ripple through all the beliefs of dying.
“Look at what she’s done to thee and me: Never will we forget her, the wonder of her life will continue through us, and some day through your daughters, and through those to whom we share her story. She is invisible to us today, sparkling among all the stars, like The Little Prince’s Asteroid B-612, living her life in the spirit of all the leaves that ever lived. Some day, or perhaps for many days to come, we will scuff through the fallen leaves, and know that she floats perfect always, right now, this minute.”
And today, at last, the leaf shifts into your consciousness.