Leaf timing or summer, perhaps because of a few days of rain, a lot of leaves have turned yellow and fell, the park ground added a new piece of gold. Not as dense as the late autumn leaves, sometimes a few scattered, lining the sand, especially showing the perfect shape of the leaves. I picked up a leaf from the ground and tried to put it in my blank notebook for sketching. The leaves are oval in shape and sit in the palm of your hand, just about the size of your palm. The leaves on the tree, growing high up, flit and shine in the sun and wind. The layers of color and the brilliance of light make it difficult to find the perfection of a single leaf shape. The fallen leaves on the ground become pale gold, a little transparent, held in the palm of your hand, you can clearly observe the delicate and complex texture of the veins, a small leaf, but also so beautiful. Leaves elliptic, margin with inconspicuous fine serrate. All the serrations point in the same direction, from the top of the leaf tip to the shapely tip, as if the best tailor had cut it by hand. I asked the local residents relaxing in the park, and they said it was Bodhi. But it's not like the bodhi leaves I saw in the east. The linden leaves back home are much larger, more heart-shaped, wide at the top and narrow at the bottom, and their tips are three or four times longer than those here. I like the bodhi leaf, perhaps related to the story of the Buddha in the legend. I once sat under the big tree in Bodh Gaya, India, to meditate on the thin wind that a practitioner had heard among the leaves. Or, the leaves fall quietly, touch the earth, and for a moment the heart rises in vibration. Meditation Though meditation, this leaf can actually have nothing to do with the story. A botanical friend often gives me a more scientific answer. He says: the leaves are slender but very strong, because they have to support the weight of the whole leaf. He added that the serrated edges of many leaves are a defensive motive. I was surprised at first, I marveled at the graceful shape of a leaf. I want to use words to sing a leaf, I want to use color shape, lines, texture to express and record a leaf, but in the field of a plant study friend has a different Angle of observation. The bodhi leaf in my hometown is indeed more like a heart shape, especially the long tip of the leaf, which makes people feel like a valve of the human heart that can feel the detailed thoughts. My botanical friends still have a different interpretation of the elongated leaf tips. The tips of many plants are used to drain water, he says.

He added: "Especially in the tropics, sudden downpours accumulate in large quantities on the leaves, injuring them and rotting them. Over time, the leaves of plants have evolved to remove water quickly, and the shape is actually the result of that function. Therefore, I cherish the firmness of the leaf pedicle, the delicate distribution of the veins as the blood vessels of the human body, the serrated lines of the leaf margin as the lace weave, the shape as full as a heart and so beautiful that you can hold it in your palm, and the tip of the leaf as thin as a bird's feather... Are they just the traces of a leaf through the long years of hardship? How long does it take to get that shape? I asked curiously. Hundreds of millions of years, he answered with a shrug. His answer silenced me. Is beauty the last memory of a difficult life to survive? Is beauty a kind of poignant self-completion? So beauty exults me and saddens me. Open the sketchbook, the blank paper rubbing on the leaf of the shallow wet traces, like a not easy to detect tears.

Leaf timing or summer, perhaps because of a few days of rain, a lot of leaves have turned yellow and fell, the park ground added a new piece of gold. Not as dense as the late autumn leaves, sometimes a few scattered, lining the sand, especially showing the perfect shape of the leaves. I picked up a leaf from the ground and tried to put it in my blank notebook for sketching. The leaves are oval in shape and sit in the palm of your hand, just about the size of your palm. The leaves on the tree, growing high up, flit and shine in the sun and wind. The layers of color and the brilliance of light make it difficult to find the perfection of a single leaf shape. The fallen leaves on the ground become pale gold, a little transparent, held in the palm of your hand, you can clearly observe the delicate and complex texture of the veins, a small leaf, but also so beautiful. Leaves elliptic, margin with inconspicuous fine serrate. All the serrations point in the same direction, from the top of the leaf tip to the shapely tip, as if the best tailor had cut it by hand. I asked the local residents relaxing in the park, and they said it was Bodhi. But it's not like the bodhi leaves I saw in the east. The linden leaves back home are much larger, more heart-shaped, wide at the top and narrow at the bottom, and their tips are three or four times longer than those here. I like the bodhi leaf, perhaps related to the story of the Buddha in the legend. I once sat under the big tree in Bodh Gaya, India, to meditate on the thin wind that a practitioner had heard among the leaves. Or, the leaves fall quietly, touch the earth, and for a moment the heart rises in vibration. Meditation Though meditation, this leaf can actually have nothing to do with the story. A botanical friend often gives me a more scientific answer. He says: the leaves are slender but very strong, because they have to support the weight of the whole leaf. He added that the serrated edges of many leaves are a defensive motive. I was surprised at first, I marveled at the graceful shape of a leaf. I want to use words to sing a leaf, I want to use color shape, lines, texture to express and record a leaf, but in the field of a plant study friend has a different Angle of observation. The bodhi leaf in my hometown is indeed more like a heart shape, especially the long tip of the leaf, which makes people feel like a valve of the human heart that can feel the detailed thoughts. My botanical friends still have a different interpretation of the elongated leaf tips. The tips of many plants are used to drain water, he says.

He added: "Especially in the tropics, sudden downpours accumulate in large quantities on the leaves, injuring them and rotting them. Over time, the leaves of plants have evolved to remove water quickly, and the shape is actually the result of that function. Therefore, I cherish the firmness of the leaf pedicle, the delicate distribution of the veins as the blood vessels of the human body, the serrated lines of the leaf margin as the lace weave, the shape as full as a heart and so beautiful that you can hold it in your palm, and the tip of the leaf as thin as a bird's feather... Are they just the traces of a leaf through the long years of hardship? How long does it take to get that shape? I asked curiously. Hundreds of millions of years, he answered with a shrug. His answer silenced me. Is beauty the last memory of a difficult life to survive? Is beauty a kind of poignant self-completion? So beauty exults me and saddens me. Open the sketchbook, the blank paper rubbing on the leaf of the shallow wet traces, like a not easy to detect tears.