Not Turning Over an Old Leaf

Tea: Cherry Vanilla.

Music: Eric Johnson, "Cliffs of Dover"

Time: Night.

Took the digital camera out for a photo walk today. There's a construction project going on about a mile from the house -- lots of cool lines to be photographed, with all those concrete culverts waiting to go below ground.

Plus, there's a ton of new easement paint on the streets and it's fall, so lots of good dead leaves are just lying around waiting to be photographed -- like the one I saw on the sidewalk alongside Nall, about halfway through the walk.

It was face down when I first saw it -- almost gray, with dark pink veins. Then the wind flipped it over, and it was purple. There weren't any others around like it.

The wind flipped it back to gray-and-pink. I took a few pictures of that side, then waited to see the purple side again. My rules, you see, don't allow me to arrange anything. I had to wait for it to turn over again -- and it wouldn't, for five minutes.

I sat and watched. I wandered to the end of the block to get a few snaps of a likely-looking surveying stake. Still no luck. (Did I mention it was cold today?)

Finally, the wind caught the leaf just right, and onto its back it went. And there, once again, was that glorious purple.

I took nearly a dozen shots in all, from both sides. Tonight, I popped the memory card into the computer, feeling like a kid about to tear into a Christmas parcel.

And you know what? Only one of those blessed shots came out -- the smallest of the purple-side pieces. All the rest had focus issues. Two had entire focus subscriptions.

I'll never get another chance to photograph that leaf. By now, it's blown away or trampled or ... or ... or.

I could be upset about that. Or I could be glad for the ten minutes or so I had with that leaf, its lines and patterns and colors.

It was a brief love, but it won't be forgotten.