They've a lot to teach us, the species of the genus Acer.
Take this sycamore. The leaves are dead - yellow and blotched and diseased-looking. They're clinging on to the tree, but the next breath of wind will take them off. A sign of death and despair - the year dies by a Midlands by-pass.
But look closely - in amongst the moulded twigs. Can you see? Next year's leaf is already there, green and packed away, ready. In the midst of winter - through Solstice and snow and gale - the buds will wait. Biding their time. They know. The year may be dead - but it's not all over. New life is already waiting amidst the old.
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