What Lies Overleaf?

Working Title: What Lies Overleaf                                                  By Jade Corcoran

A story about a little leaf with big dreams.



Chapter 1: Of the Different Personalities, Perspectives and Societies of Leaves in General

There are a great many leaves on a great many trees throughout the world. Some are dark green, some light, some a shade in between, or red, or orange, or brown; some shaped like stars, some like clouds, others round or elliptical, pointed or smooth; some are two metres long and a metre wide, others are rolled tight into tiny sharp needles; some taste sweet, others bitter; some are perfumed, others plain; some have healing powers and others can take a life as quick as blinking. Of course, each and every leaf has its own idiosyncrasies, but for the most part, all this multitude of leaves can be divided into three basic personality types, as can clearly be seen should you take a moment to stop and watch their behaviour as a gust of wind whistles through the branches of your favourite tree. 

         As you stand beneath the bending boughs, you shall observe three distinct behaviours amongst the inhabitants of that bustling little world. You will notice that some leaves recoil from the touch of the wind; wrapping themselves into balls, making themselves as small as possible and bending in towards the thick, secure, wooden frames that hold them in place. The colonies of leaves that inhabit Pines have taken this behaviour to the extreme, over centuries of evolution their thought and tradition has seen them retreat ever further from the influence of the wind, learning right from the bud to roll themselves into tight needles and secure themselves firmly to the branches. Such leaves do not like to think about what lies beyond the tree world they inhabit, or may indeed have no conception of anything lying beyond it at all. They see no point to such frivolous thinking, nor any good in what it may bring. What more do they need than that which they get from their current existence? Why should one waste their life wishing for unknown wonders? Why not just make the best of what you have and what you know? You do what you must to get through life and need not question why you are here, or the ultimate purpose and structure of things. What would you do with such knowledge if you found the answers, anyway? What practical purpose could it serve? No, it's far better to concentrate on the practical things that you can control – like the sunlight quota or the raindrop count.

         Amongst these leaves though, even on the most densely needled Pine, you will observe others that seem to welcome the wind a little more. You will witness them jump and dance along with its gusting stream – only sometimes becoming hesitant and curling back towards the boughs to make sure the support is still there and they are still firmly attached. Such leaves are more common amongst Oaks, Birches and Chestnut trees; trees in which a more diverse community encourages more creative and outgoing individuals. After all, such leaves have an easier existence and less need to group together quite so tightly than those of the Pines. The needles of a Pine do what needs must to thrive in harsh winter climates and their personalities have largely developed accordingly. These  second sort of leaves are a species of dreamer that devote a portion of their lives to wondering about what is out there. They like to converse with wizened, old comrades, who once took the leap and occasionally blow past, caught up in a flurry. They like to hear tales told by the bugs and birds that alight upon them. “Tell us what you've seen!”, they sing, “What adventures have you had? What places have you been?”. They like to hear of the world beyond the tree and often think that one day, perhaps as they near retirement, or have collected enough sunlight, or directed enough raindrops -  one day they too will take the leap. But, for now they content themselves with the songs and stories the wind brings them, for 'real-life' must take priority and there is always more work to be done somewhere; always something they find holding them back. “Perhaps”, they think, “this gust will not carry me far enough.” “Perhaps I should remain content a little longer and wait for the gust that will carry me away. Surely, I will know it when it comes...Surely, I wont let the opportunity slip by when the time is really right!”. These leaves rarely leave the tree before they die.

         The third behaviour you will observe, is that of the leaves that spread themselves out, stretching their their tips as wide as they can, in order to provide the largest surface area possible to the caresses of the wind. The seem as sails trying to catch the wind and appear to be actively straining against the wood that holds them in place. They imitate the posture of birds, and planes, and butterflies they've seen and look for all the world as though they should be soaring aloft with the wind, through the sky, to the great unknown. (The image of a small child standing atop a cliff, being buffeted by the wind, eyes closed and arms spread wide, may well spring to mind on observing such leaves). This is another species of dreamer, but this species believes in their dreams beyond all else. Finding out what lies beyond the tree fills them so completely, that there is no room to worry about the practical or personal concerns that hold the other leaves to the branches. These dreamers will recognise every opportunity that comes their way to make their dreams reality and if you stand and watch a moment longer, you may very well see them let go; tear up the thin chord that holds them tethered and rise, dancing, into the sky, shouting as they go “Good-bye! Au Revoir! Hasta la Vista, Baby! - I'm away to see the world...perhaps I'll send a postcard!”.

         Now, leaves live in very structured societies; each knows, as it wakes to the early morning sun, exactly where and how it should position itself to best avoid it's upper neighbour's shadow, so it may perform its daily duties of absorbing and filtering the photons from the sunlight and directing water droplets to the roots, far below. Each leaf wakes and  goes straight to work, collecting its bounty and sending whatever is needed to the main trunk of the tree, so it may be shared among the boughs in whatsoever way is deemed best for the entire community. This is the life's work of a leaf and for the most part they carry it out for their entire season, without too much complaint. They continue working until the onset of the Autumn months sees their skin begin to darken and their power begin to wane, then they begin to retire, enjoying a leisurely month or two of old age, receiving a basic pension the tree deems fitting, before finally drifting into that eternal sleep as the tree lets them drop gracefully to the leafy bed made by the fallen comrades that went before them. Most leaves float lightly to the ground for their soul is light and they have died content in the knowledge that they worked hard all their life and fulfilled their life's purpose, as set out by the society of their ancestors. They did what was expected; took the approved of steps and helped their tree world to continue thriving. And, so much the better that they did, for if they all were dreamers, what would become of society then? It would fall apart at the first murmur of a spring breeze and all the trees would perish. But that is not to say that some leaves don't dream. Indeed, some leaves  dream bigger, brighter, bolder dreams than any human ever dared dream yet! This is the story of one such leaf.