My photo this week is actually a preview of next Tuesday’s main post. We were finally able to get out for the season’s first real hike, and we made a full day out of it, capturing all the beauty the location had to offer.
I have previously made my love for autumn quite clear. Now that we’re amidst the explosion of spring, fall is a distant memory. Despite this, I still see evidence of its presence.
I have a propensity for noticing small oddities in my travels, but I feel that makes my experiences all the more interesting. How long ago did this leaf actually fall from its tree? It might have actually been quite recently. But I prefer to think of it clinging to this wooden railing through all the rain and snow of the winter, defiantly lingering for me to see it in early April.
How long will it remain, until the winds dry it out enough to release it from its lofty prison? Or will it simply break away, bit by bit?
Am I the only one who wonders about the journey of a humble leaf?
