A LEAF fell on my head, and it was very old — in leaf years.
I took it out of my hair and gave it a good look. It reminded me of me.
It was, as am I, in one piece, intact. Old leaves often are not intact, so that was a good sign.
A sign of survival.
Its face was battered, though mine is not so much, certainly not like Charles Bukowski’s.
But still, it reminded me of me. It was skinny and damaged, folded over in some parts. Though I am not folded over, I am skinny. Perhaps damaged. It had fallen off its tree. I too have fallen off my tree, so perhaps that was the principal connection, why it reminded me of me. It felt like a brother, so I brought it home.
That’s it in the photo, the actual leaf. I posed it, and snapped a shot. A bad shot but better than nothing. I gave it a look appropriate for its generation, although my leaf was not born during World War II, as I was.
Never in my life have I felt brotherhood with a leaf.
That made smile…
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Peter: Smiles are always good.
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Johnny Paycheck had a song about an old violin. This reminded me of it.
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Bob: Old violins. Old leaves. Lots of things inspire thoughts.
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This made me smile too! 🙂 The last few weeks out on my patio, the leaves have been flying and quite a few have fallen on my head. Unlike me though, most of these are new leaves, not old ones!
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Cat: I will assume you are, unlike me, young and fresh. So you can relate to the young leaves. I hope so.
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Ha! I am NOT young and fresh, but somehow I CAN relate to these young leaves fluttering around. 😉
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Brotherhood of the Leaf 🙂
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Carole: That great phrase has promise. Exactly for what, I am not sure. Maybe it will come to me.
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May you survive the autumn.
Saludos,
Kim G
Boston, MA
Where we’ve still got autumn leaves to collect.
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Kim: We old leaves never know our future. I may be swept up into a pile of brethren and set aflame. Like Joan of Arc.
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