Yellow Foliage

“Sitting alone by the window, I observed quietly the shadows of the trees shifting inch by inch.” With the chilly autumn wind rustling in, I noticed the mountains were already tinged with golden colors.

This time last year, I was touring Jiuzhaigou Valley, a place renowned for its gorgeous fall scenery. Many tourists from various countries travel long distances to visit, just to imbibe fully the autumn splendor that is beyond depiction even by the magic brushes of impressionist artists.

“Sertha” literally means a golden plain. This valley also boasts similar fall foliage; its scale may not be as grand, but its beauty is no less breathtaking. If you observe attentively, you’ll find that each tree is a stunning stroke in the fall landscape. The trees, together with the red cabins, the golden mandala hall, and the glazed roof tile of the shrine room complement one another perfectly. Such rich scenery delights our senses in a way that is unrivaled by artificial colors. What’s more, while one is immersed in natural beauty, one also feels the holiness of a Buddha realm. Compared with the Jiuzhaigou Valley that is more flamboyant and less dignified, our Sertha Valley indeed outshines it with unsurpassable qualities.

I picked up a leaf that has just fallen. This spindle-shaped orange leaf shone brightly under the sunlight and the central vein still showed the robust green of its younger days, even though the leaf’s edge was parched, browning, and curled up. Am I not just like this piece of leaf? My physical body is now voicing complaints as the aging process has commenced; yet my mind, refusing to give in to old age, still holds the toughness of younger days. The leaves are destined to fall to the ground and each person will definitely meet his or her end. Such is the fate of all. Thus toward the voiceless leaf, I felt a sense of comradeship. However, this leaf has an edge over me in that after having fallen to the ground, it can transform itself into nutrients to nourish the soil, whereas I, as a human, will be blown about by the karmic wind in the intermediate state and be propelled involuntarily into the next rebirth.

This ruined hall, empty and dilapidated
Has seen its better days bedecked with luxuries.
This wasted lot, strewn with dead weeds and withered trees,
Was once a court dazzling with songs and dances.

Everything in the world is impermanent, no matter how prominent and powerful we may have become; in the end we are no better than a mere leaf. When contemplating all this, is there anything worthy to be pompous about?

30th of August, Year of RenWu
October 6, 2002