AUTUMN IS HERE, and honestly, it’s my favourite season.
There’s something about it that just speaks to the soul. The cool air. The golden light. The crunch of leaves under your feet. But beyond the beauty, it’s also a time when the signs of Allah ﷻ feel especially near.
Have you ever stopped to think why trees shed their leaves in autumn?
Biologists will tell you it’s a form of self-protection, a survival strategy.
Thin leaves wouldn’t survive winter. The water inside them would freeze, expand, and burst the delicate cells. And in the low light of winter, those leaves can’t photosynthesise anyway; they’d only drain the tree’s energy without giving anything back.
Then there’s the weather. Strong winds and heavy snow are more common in winter. Broad leaves catch the wind like sails, putting branches at risk of snapping. And snow, sitting on large leafy surfaces, can weigh the branches down and break them.
By the end of summer, most leaves are already damaged, torn, diseased, or insect-eaten. So, the tree lets them go. It’s a clean slate. A fresh start before spring.
But here’s what’s truly incredible: those leaves don’t just fall off. They’re released through a slow, controlled, and intentional process.
Biologists will further explain that as days shorten and temperatures drop, the tree gets to work.
Hormones are triggered. Chlorophyll, the green pigment that powers photosynthesis, begins to break down, fading away and revealing the reds, yellows, and oranges that were always there, hidden beneath the green.
The tree then seals off the vessels that carry water to the leaves and sugars back to the tree. A special layer of cells, called the abscission layer, forms at the base of the leaf stem. Slowly, gently, it cuts the leaf free, without leaving a wound behind.
And once the leaves are gone, the tree rests. It conserves its energy, quietly preparing for the explosion of life that will come with spring.
SubhanAllah. If that’s not a sign of divine design, I don’t know what is.
وَمَا تَسْقُطُ مِن وَرَقَةٍ إِلَّا يَعْلَمُهَا
Not even a leaf falls without His knowledge. (al-An’am 59)
We can marvel at the detail and precision in Allah’s ﷻ creation, but maybe there’s also a deeper lesson for us here.
Just like the trees, we too go through seasons.
And just like the trees shed their leaves to survive, to grow, maybe we need to let go of a few things too.
As we go through life, we collect baggage. Emotions, memories, pain. Anger. Regret. Resentment. Guilt. Fear.
We carry them like dead leaves, weighing us down, holding us back.
But the trees? They show us how beautiful letting go can be.
Letting go doesn’t mean forgetting. It means healing. It means forgiving. Reconciling. Moving forward.
Not for someone else, but for yourself.
And the One who taught the trees to let go so gracefully? He’s the One we turn to when we’re ready to release what’s hurting us.
Our deen is full of wisdom on how to do that, with intention, reflection, and du’a.
اللّهُـمَّ رَحْمَتَـكَ أَرْجـو، فَلا تَكِلـني إِلى نَفْـسي طَـرْفَةَ عَـيْن، وَأَصْلِـحْ لي شَأْنـي كُلَّـه، لَا إِلَهَ إِلَّا أنْـت
O Allah, I hope for Your mercy. Do not leave me to myself, even for the blink of an eye. Correct all of my affairs. There is no one worthy of worship but You. (Abu Dawud)
So this autumn, take a moment.
Breathe in the cool air.
Watch the leaves fall.
And ask yourself: what do you need to let go of, to grow?
Living For Islam 