In the beginning there was a leaf, red, orange, or yellow. Or perhaps it was red, orange, and yellow. Why not? And the leaf fluttered across one pane of the brilliant September sky. In this roundabout way it descended. Doing its dreamy dance it reached a patch of grass. When it arrived and settled on the grass, the light had already been divided from the darkness, and we may say that the leaf fell into the light. But it could have been otherwise and made no difference.
In the beginning there was a child who contained all the world’s joy. That’s not a paradox, though it may seem like one. This child had climbed onto a leaf pile and was busy inhaling its earthy, burned scent when the leaf in question landed near his foot.
In the beginning there was a mother who was taking a bath and had slid underwater. The water fanned her long hair Medusa-like. She was listening to her heart, its reliable beat. When she came up from under the water she heard her son chortling through the open window. She stepped out of the bath, and soon enough September’s breeze blew her dry.
In the beginning there was a father who was raking all of the leaves, all of them, yes, even our leaf. He was, however, noncommittally raking, having realized that as fast as he worked his son managed to undo the work. So he may have had a rake in hand, and he may have gathered some leaves into a pile or two, but really he was watching his son, whose enthusiasm was contagious, and he was smiling.
In the beginning there were these four: leaf, child, mother, father. They were doing exactly what they were supposed to be doing, but not because it was their destiny. They were meant to be what they were doing only because they were doing what they were doing. Do you see? They were dancing towards the earth, they were playing in leaf piles, they were raking and not-raking, and they were listening to the steady beat of a heart, and because they were doing all those things, it was their destiny to be doing all those things.
And it was so. And it was good.
for Sarah Gilbert