The Cycle of the Leaves

The Cycle of the Leaves 🍃

By Marianna Defendini

At 11:44 this morning, after harvesting fresh lettuce from the garden, I sat down outside for lunch.

The bowl was simple. Fresh lettuce and spinach. Sprouts 🌱 grown on my windowsill. A slice of homemade tofu loaf from last night’s dinner. Tahini, garlic, Parmesan tapenade, a little truffle oil, and just enough jalapeño to bring everything to life.

Nothing extravagant.

Just lunch.

Yet I have come to believe that a life lived with intention is built from moments exactly like these.

Earlier this morning, I spent some time in the garden tending to one of my indoor plants, Hekate, an Elephant Ear plant I inherited from a neighbor.

I named her after the goddess because she always seems to hold three leaves at a time. Over time, I began to see them as the Maiden, Mother, and Crone.

The outermost leaf is the Crone, the oldest and closest to returning to the earth.

The mature leaf is the Mother, strong and steady.

The newest leaf is the Maiden, still unfolding into herself.

Today, the oldest leaf had finally reached the ground.

It was time.

I carefully removed it and carried it to the base of George, a tree that has become a quiet companion and witness in my life. There, among the pinecones, I laid the leaf to rest and placed a sprig of lavender from my friend’s garden beside it.

A simple offering.

A moment of gratitude.

A small farewell for a leaf that had completed its work.

As I stood there, I realized the cycle was already continuing.

The Crone had completed her journey.

The Mother would become the Crone and ensure their legacy continued.

The Maiden would become the Mother to her new emerging daughter.

And from the center of the plant, life begins again as the new Maiden.

Nothing was lost.

Only transformed.

Afterward, I watered Hekate and added fresh compost to nourish her roots. The surrounding plants stood nearby, as though witnessing the transition. The garden felt alive with quiet companionship.

This is one of the lessons nature offers so freely.

The old nourishes the new.

The elder makes space for the next generation.

Life continues, not in spite of endings, but because of them.

As I reflected on Hekate’s leaves, I realized I am living within this cycle myself.

My grandmother has entered the season of the Crone. My mother now stands where the Crone begins to emerge. And I have found myself stepping fully into the role of Mother—not only to my son, but also as a caretaker, a steward, and a keeper of what has been entrusted to me.

Perhaps that is why I find so much comfort in the garden.

A leaf falls.

A new one rises.

The cycle continues. 🌀

As I nurture my son and care for the things placed in my hands, I find myself standing between what came before and what is yet to come. Perhaps that is the role of the Mother—to honor the wisdom of the Crone while creating space for the Maiden who is still unfolding.

And on this Wednesday afternoon, after harvesting lettuce, sharing a simple meal, and tending to the plants, I was reminded once again that nature is always teaching us how to let go and begin again.

With love and magic,

Mar 🔱🐉

The Sun carefully shinning on the center.

Layed on a bed of pinecones under the tree.

The main plant with her other indoor plants.