I was walking Aw’gy this breezy fall morning while leaves swirled all around us. So many have already detached themselves from their trees only to land in the dunes or have been swept or raked then discarded. But one leaf is going to spend the winter on my desk. It’s the leaf that landed on my head.
It didn’t land really, but sort of plopped – purposefully. With a flat hand I plucked it from fine, graying hair. (It’s a copywriter’s choice. Why say thin when fine will do? And, it’s in a ponytail. A sort of personal oxymoron.)
“Thanks,” I said out loud, studying the fine oak leaf in my hand.
Pin Oak, I know. Pinnate lobes, I thought, and alternating, not opposite. The base of the stem looked slightly green, telling me it had had a healthy life. I studied the fine veins. It had a few small blemishes and a couple of warts. Me too, except for the warts.
How many leaves did I rake this weekend, I thought as I raked a bunch to the curb. How many leaves are on the ground in these dunes? Hmm, how many grains of sand on the beach?
I stopped thinking about how many and became a grateful observer.