Last week sometime, I went on a nice, long walk and enjoyed the sunshine and the turning of the fall leaves. At one point, a leaf fell from a tree and, as the breeze was perfect, accompanied my walk for about half a block as it slowly drifted down. I was very impressed with how long of a flight it managed and picked it up to look at it.
As I continued to walk, I realized that this little leaf had budded in the spring, collected sunshine all summer long, and made its one and only flight just then. I felt a little sad for the leaf that after all that work, it only got to fly once. Granted, it was a spectacular flight, but I thought that after the effort it took to grow and be all aerodynamic, it deserved another chance to play on the breeze. So I tossed it up high and watched it float away through the park in a very satisfying way.
While continuing my walk, I worried that perhaps other people don't feel sad for leaves. I quickly stopped this train of thought because I figured it would only make me feel more awkward in life than I already do. I also figured there was probably an analogy in there somewhere that I was too lazy (a.k.a. enjoying the sunshine) to work out.
My walk today was longer, but not as fun. The leaves were still firmly attached to their trees and were showing a brilliant display of primary colors, but my internal dialog was much more grim. I finally walked myself out of it and simply enjoyed moving my body (while checking out the half-naked runners) and loving a sunny fall day.
An Erinku:
hot sake
MarioKart
home pants
Saturday night
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