Autumn is here, and staying late this year- as of late December, the leaves of the mother Sweet Gum Maple, who lives alongside my family and I, are still present, and her colors are especially vibrant this year. As the leaves have dried, the wind takes on a rustling and softly rattling sound as it moves through the branches. This process is known in botany as senescence and abscission- and it contains a natural wisdom that is easy for us to forget in our human-centric world of acquiring and holding on.
Scientifically, senescence is a masterwork of biochemistry: chlorophyll breaking down to reveal hidden pigments, hormones triggering precise cellular changes, and abscission layers forming with microscopic precision.
Perhaps the most visible winter adaptation is abscission- a programmed leaf drop process in deciduous trees that occurs as a winter adaptation. It's triggered by environmental cues like shortened daylight hours and falling temperatures. The process involves forming an abscission layer at the base of each leaf stem (petiole), which leads to the controlled shedding of leaves. Each leaf follows an ancient genetic program, releasing itself from the branch in a carefully choreographed dance.
In spiritual wisdom traditions such as Buddhism, the falling of leaves demonstrates impermanence - that all things must pass, and in passing, make way for renewal. The trees don't resist this change, it’s part of their cycle of being.
The process of senescence and abscission that’s at play in every autumn season shows us how to let go of what no longer sustains and nurtures us and those we love. Our environments change, or maybe we do- and something inside us begins to nudge us that it’s time to let something go that’s no longer healthy and viable. It may be a terrifying, painful, uncertain process that takes a lot of time- but it’s the first step of a new cycle.
As for the leaves, they’ll continue paint the world in brilliant colors before their return to the earth. Their departure is not an ending but a transformation, feeding the soil that will nurture next spring's growth. The natural world, and our lives, are of a cyclical and circular nature. Endings, though they are often painful and sometimes terrifying, also have the capacity for beauty, because they are the compost for new beginnings.