By: Alice Li

In an ancient library at the edge of the world lay an old and rusty tome. In this tome was a single katsura tree leaf. Time can tell, this nearly primordial leaf once had its own tree, and now its brothers and sisters were washed away while it still endured in the library under the sea.

It starts with a seed, blown by the north wind to reach a wide plain covered in a thick layer of freshly grown grass, the work of cousin Spring. The seed flutters to a stop on a wide hill, buried into the ground from the heavy torrents of spring rain. It lays dormant, like a volcano waiting for the right time to erupt. And it does erupt, but not in the fiery waves of lava and ash, but rather a light clean green, sprouting in the sun. The stem grows quickly, thickening and carrying a darker army. Green leaves unfurl, and the sprout rises into the sky, its outer shell hardening and becoming a trunk. Thousands of leaves grow on the dozens of branches, reaching for perhaps the stars and the moon in the chilly whooshing wind of sister Night. It takes 40 years for this process to unfold.

On a hot scorching day of cousin Summer, our leaf, the one now in the library under the sea, grows lush and beautiful. The richness of the soil and the care of Mother Nature brought forth this leaf that was foretold to never wither and die like its brethren. It grew and sang with the wind along with its brothers and sisters, rejoicing in the summit of life.

The return of cousin Autumn brings the color into the leaves. They start dyeing a brilliant red gold and orange onto themselves, for the celebration of harvest. Orchards of trees turn colors like a caterpillar emerging from its pulpa as a magnificent butterfly, blessing Uncle Sky and Aunt Earth with its beauty. After the dazzling show of red and gold, the leaves start to fall onto the ground to be covered by the forthcoming snow and return to the roots of their tree. Our leaf, like the others, changed into a scarlet red, and fell among the others, nestled in, to sleep and be reborn once cousin Spring blesses them with its rain once again.

Cousin Winter fell upon them with a snowstorm, the leaves covered with a blanket of white snow. Our leaf could feel his brothers and sisters melting away to return to the roots of their tree, but it did not break, remaining whole and frozen under the snow. Brother Sun and Brother Moon went up and down the sky, marking time as the snow melted and rain fell.

As its brothers and sisters were being reborn, our leaf ran down the hill with the melting snow and spring rain, forming a small stream, flowing onwards toward the horizon.

So, even the oldest leaf had its young vibrant days once, with its own tree, its brethren, and the will to grow and wither in the cycles of seasons.

But how our leaf got to the library under the sea, that is another story to tell.