Glossy mahogany leaves
lofted from the highest limbs of the majestic white oak start their long drift down.
Up! A gusty blow shoots them higher than they’ve ever been! Whirling and darting as do the birds they’ve envied so often, they are loose from the limb. Free air lifts and enlivens them, only them, and they dance gaily, lightly.
Loosing breath, they flutter from the magnificent sky in a gentle gyre.
They settle with a sigh upon the many that have gone before, resigned to sleep, treasuring their grand time as leaf birds.
On the front porch watching and listening to the birds, you see the neatest things. The wind plays a lot of tricks, too! Here is is Friday afternoon and I can hardly wait to get back home. Rainy or nor, here I come! Doesn’t this picture look like a watercolor?