Relentlessly cyclonic gales pounded our deciduous shelter.  “I can’t Frank.  I’m losing my grip,” came Ed’s response as a pained lament.

I saw that Ed was not going to make it much longer.  I too, had to make a decision.  Our maple shelter was a refuge for months now.  We both had grown from and because of this experience.  But a new adventure was blowin’ in the wind.  “Ed, I think we’re about to enter a new chapter in our time together,” I yelled to my friend trying to make myself heard over tornadic gusts.

He and I went through a lot together since, roughly speaking, March.  We were buds together just before the Great Unfolding.  Together we contributed our part to the full effect of “Spring Green”.  The rich verdant tones proved rebirth in a myriad of springtime miracles.  He and I danced with a summer sprites before settling into the long, lazy, hot and humid days of August.

“Ed, are you doin’ ok?” I yelled over.  “Ed? … Ed?  Dang, now where’d he go?”  I heard an intense whoosh and saw Ed streak by me, flying.  Amazed, I could see him soar higher and higher.  He’d changed and changed a lot, from a deep green to a brilliant red.

Fluttering around the tree, he flew close by me.  “Ed, what are you doing?”

“Frank, it’s great.  It’s fantastic… such freedom.  All you have to do is let go!” his voice trailed off as he was lifted higher and higher into the golden-toned sunset.

I shivered.  Let go. I thought.  “No way!” I yelled.  Ed was long out of earshot, but I could still hear his voice in the distance, “…. the adventure starts when you can let goooo!”

I felt as though I was being pushed, pushed to loosen my tight-fisted grip on my only reality.  I was being pushed out.  I was being pushed out by new life.  Reluctantly, I let go.  Suddenly air borne I soared skyward.  I saw Ed fluttering, weaving back and forth – a rusty, ruddy colored aero-craft.  I rose silently, slowly to meet him.  “Ed, Ed… it’s me,”

“Frank, you let go.  Isn’t it awesome?”  Our spirits as well as our solid presence floated higher and higher.  We reached a spot where we were looking down on our former home. 

“Look closely, Ed,” I said as a nudged his side so he could see the very branch we once held on to for dear life.  “What do you see?”  I asked.

Ed looked more closely.  “Is that a new bud?”

“Yup.  It’s the promise of spring,” I answered as we began to settle lower and lower.  Our individual glide paths took us close to the base of the tree, our former home.  We settled within a few inches of each other.  The smells of fall were heavy in the air.  Bursts of color were evident all around us as more and more of our comrades lifted and flew.

“Now what, Ed?” I asked as we rested next to each other near the base of the maple tree.

“I dunno.  I heard from some of the older leaves here we’re going to end up as either oil, coal or a diamond.”

“Hmmm.  That’s interesting, but right now, I’m really tired,” I observed as I dozed off for a long winter’s nap.