What Endures: Listening Beneath the Falling Away

The trees have nearly finished their surrender.

Each week, the wind carries away another layer of leaves, until the forest begins to resemble the bones of itself... simple, quiet, unadorned.

This is the season when endurance shows itself, if we are paying attention.

The green mosses gleam brighter in the very late-autumn light. A stubborn oak leaf clings to its branch through sleet and dusk. Even in the hush of early snow, there is a pulse beneath the surface... roots and fungi exchanging messages, seeds sleeping with intention.

afternoon light on a mossy stump

I find myself wondering what endures in me, too.

What stays when so much falls away? What still holds warmth, even in the cold?

As we move toward winter, perhaps this is the invitation: not to chase light, but to listen for what remains.

The steady heartbeat. The glowing ember of care. The thread of connection that persists through change.

This December’s Forest Gathering will explore this question in the company of trees, in whatever weather arrives.

Until then, notice what endures.

Notice what stays.

RSVPs for the December 6 Forest Gathering open November 15.