Coming Back as a Leaf

While watching all the leafs fall from the trees in the past month I got to thinking at first about how it would be to be a leaf falling from a tree (as you do) and then what it might be like to be reincarnated as a leaf and then what kind of people would suit or maybe choose to be reincarnated as a leaf. Here are my conclusions.

Although I'm not good with heights I imagine it could be quite a ride falling from the uppermost reaches of a big tree, keeping to the good side of things for the moment, imagining I was lucky enough to be situated at the top of a good sturdy high tree life would be good when green, lapping up any sun and enjoying the view, maybe even getting the chance to be nosy. Hearing how Wilfred the Jones's dog has bitten next doors cat again and how Mr Jones only washes on a Friday. As a cautious person with no head for heights however I have to admit most of my time would be taken up looking down and worrying about the inevitable fall, for although we all take falls in life we don’t tend to know to often about when they might be coming or in what form.

Being a leaf and assuming cognitive thinking is in existence I would see the distance of the fall and have a good idea about when it was coming. This and the thought of birds pooping all over me puts me off and I decide that the leaf thing would not be for me. Of course I might be situated on a smaller tree or on a larger tree but closer to the ground thereby making the height a little less gruesome, so maybe I should say that if I was given the choice of what position I would have on the tree it might tempt me more and leave it at that.

Most suited to the above I think would be the extreme sports enthusiast, skydivers and the like who would appreciate coming back at a precarious altitude and relish the fall and prospect of being caught by the wind for more thrills, again I am assuming a certain amount of choice. There is always a downside of course, there are council workers and gardeners in abundance that would be waiting to bag you up, burn you, put you into compost, it might be fun to help block a drain with others of your like I suppose, or for being responsible for crippling a nations railway network for a day or two (see leafs on track, any British Rail company) but all in all I’m going off the idea as I write.

I imagine if leafs could talk they could give us a few good pointers on capturing energy from the sun and tell us we should count ourselves lucky as we very seldom turn yellow and live relatively long lives, they would I think, advise us to keep our feet on the ground and that pot purée should be banned, it does smell nice though.