Quite a number of years ago, my mother requested that I write her a story. I wrote her this piece as a children’s story, a metaphor for life, death, and reincarnation.

The Autumn Princess

The Autumn Princess stood proud on the tree-speckled ridge, overlooking the river that flowed through the veins of the Earth. It was a constant flow of life passing from one form to another; the death of the stream rebirthing into the river, the river giving way to the lake, and onward toward it’s destination…the ocean.

The Autumn Princess reflected on this constant flowing and ebbing. Sometimes the water flowed like glass, appearing to be unmoving, yet you could see through it so clearly, and you knew it was not stagnating. Unseen below the surface, the waters were pulled, inwardly drawn toward their chosen fate.

At other times the water rose up in great fluctuating waves, almost seeming uncontrollable. It was filled with strength, capped by a whiteness that clouded the clearness of the water. The water seemed almost at war within it’s self, as if it could rise up and escape - but escape from what?

Then there were those days that the water flowed between the two extremes and calmly lapped along to it’s destination with anticipation, and felt free within itself.

On rare days the storms came and caused the waters to flood, muddying their clearness. When this happened, brush would often gather from the hillsides and hinder the waters flow. But the waters would wait and endure. When the storm was over the silt would fall to the bottom, and the waters would push the brush aside and carry on.

On days when the sun shone brightly above, the waters would give themselves up to the atmosphere. Evaporating into the sky’s blueness, they would form into fluffy entities of white and gray clouds. The waters sometimes looked forward to this because it was nice to change shapes and float around a bit before they returned to their earthly homes.

Some said the waters were all the same, but the Autumn Princess knew better. Some of the waters were salty, and some had no taste at all. Some were blue, some were green, and some crystal clear, seeming to be without color. There were the clean fresh waters from the mountainsides, and then there were the waters that had been polluted by some of the humans. All the waters had one thing in common though, and that was that they were all water.

The wonderful thing though, was that they didn’t have to remain the same kind of water. When the sun came and evaporated them into the sky, they often came back down in different forms of water than their previous visit upon Earth. Some of the waters didn’t wait for the sun to come and change them, but traveled along until they flowed into another body of water. One thing remained the same though, no matter which route they took to change, they were still the same water, even though their form or place within the water changed.

The Autumn Princess often laughed at the waters because some would brag that they were bigger or stronger than the others. She would lovingly remind them that once upon a time they had been a creek or a stream too, and that perhaps they may be again someday. They often churned a bit at this within, and would calm their surface so the Autumn Princess would not see how embarrassed they were. She loved the waters though, each and every one, none meant more or less within her eyes.

The day came when the Autumn Princess appeared clothed in her most beautiful dress, earthen tones of bright yellows and crisp oranges. Her golden brown hair surrounded her fair skin in waves, her deep brown eyes bright with excitement on this special day, the first day of Autumn. She laughed at the illusion her magic wand created as the leaves fell from the trees in a mock ritual of death, the winds blew much colder, and the sun shone less bright. All the elements applauded the Autumn Princess, because she was quite a magician, or illusionist as one would say.

Many mourned this time of year, for they had little understanding of autumn magic. Some were reminded that they, like autumn, were no longer green with the freshness of spring. They yearned for the past when the blossoms of their own youth were in bloom. How sad the Autumn Princess thought to herself, for those who live in the past are blinded to the beauty of the present. Her thoughts wandered as she meditated on the leaves that danced in graceful spirals to the ground.

One leaf in particular caught the Princess’ attention, for it seemed to hang on tightly to the mother tree, as if terrified to let go. She had seen many leaves like this before, who struggled against letting go of the very force that gave them life. Eventually they could hold on no longer, and fought against gravity, even as they hit the ground.

Not all leaves struggled against their eventual physical death, but let go with a calmness, and some even with joy. Some of the leaves were tired, and letting go brought a new freedom.

Others were excited to be able to go home within the Earth, from which they had come from.

The leaves that lay upon the Earth, golden ingots of beauty, would soon fade to skeletons, and then to dust, becoming part of the Earth itself. They quietly and patiently waited within the Earth’s womb for the day that they would spring forth anew. Some would come back as flowers, some grass, and some possibly even trees, giving life to leaves as they had once been.

The Earth stood barren, a graveyard of the elements from which all things were possible. With a wave of her hand, the Autumn Princess brushed aside the skeletons of the past, like an artist making way for a new painting. With death came a newness, a fresh beginning of limitless possibilities which one could learn and grow from. The Autumn Princess turned as the Earth opened up below her. She stepped down, and smiling, disappeared.