Fall: Nature’s Suicide
by Meeral Umar
A lone, barren tree is to me, the epitome of fall. I do not recall the fiery waves of crinkled orange, the crimson-laced flannel, or the steaming hot drinks when I hear the term fall. Instead the only image that comes to my mind, slowly, like a wilting rose, is a single tree in the midst of nowhere—it is not adorned in burning red stars, but it is bitter and cold, burdened by the tranquility of solitude. Fall, to me, is a persisting ache, a hereditary void of the soul; the tree somehow encapsulates that all.I have been thinking of the ouroboros, which, to define directly from the dictionary, is a circular symbol that depicts a snake or dragon devouring its own tail, used to represent the eternal cycle of destruction and rebirth. I wonder mostly about who came up with it;...
