text: He watched the leaf as it slid gently from the tree to the ground. The wind carried it carefully with its waves. Cautiously, very lightly it flew ahead, the goal before his eyes. The bench on which he sat was damp from the rain the day before. It was mild. The sky was cloudy. Tension was in the air. The birds gathered in groups and flew excitedly back and forth in the park. The leaf flew on. Untouched by any doing and being in its environment. It pursued its goal unperturbed. He sat on the wet bench, lost in thought, and without any support. The surroundings enveloped him. Lost in himself. Present and yet very far away. Something pressed him but he didn't know what it was. The leaf that fell to the ground was already completely yellowish. As did most of the leaves that had already found their way to the ground. It was the calm before the storm that surrounded him. A gust of wind came up and lifted the leaf further up into the air. It could not be kept from its course. The bank was pointed at a piece of deciduous forest. The colors ranged from lush green to bright orange, to pale yellow. Just before the forest began, there were some apple and plum trees. An old, bare, whitish tree caught his eye. He was a bit distant from the others and apparently had his best years behind him. Not a single leaf could be recognized by his arms. Not a single apple lay at his feet. He did not deserve the attention of people passing by. He was simply uninteresting for them. Who was interested in a tree that could no longer bear fruit? For a tree that stood naked on the meadow all year round and was no longer useful for anything. The only use for it would be to give off the heat after its final death. Wouldn't it be nice to see him again in full dress? In his full splendor. So that every person who walks past him would pay him every attention. That would be truly the best farewell he could wish for this tree. When he turned his gaze back to the leaf, he could see at the last moment how it finally reached its way to the ground, but even now it was still carried by the wind, even now that it had reached its lowest point. It seemed as if it had simply recognized and accepted its path. Something insensitive for him. He would immediately take the opportunity to go back, to make it better. To do it differently. He had lost too much. Left too much behind. Too much has trickled away what should be there. The sky was closing in. The sky became darker. The lashes of the wind became firmer. He pulled the zipper of his jacket up to his mouth. He hid his hands in his jacket and stood up. His gaze fell to the ground, there lay all the old leaves that had been carried by the wind days before. &#x200B; He turned his back to the old tree and walked a few steps. Drops fell down to the earth, a cloudburst! His steps became quicker. The wind blew his long white hair into his face. He made no effort to straighten it. A bright flash of light, only fractions of a second later a thunder. He flinched. He turned around and saw the old tree that was now on fire and giving away the only thing it had left to offer. Light and warmth.