Alone

"Never say there is nothing beautiful in the world anymore. There is always something to make you wonder

in the shape of a tree, the trembling of a leaf." (Albert Schweitzer)

It snowed today, one of our frustrating but predictable April snows, big and fluffy. It will continue to snow, off and on, for the next three days, and then hopefully we'll be able to put winter behind us and get on with the business of Spring, my favorite season. Last year at this time the trees were in full bloom, pink and white, and the air was filled with sweet fragrance, but this year the trees are hardly budding.

This afternoon, after leaving work early in a futile attempt to beat the traffic, Duncan led me down The Run to play in The Glen. Halfway down, beneath the maple that rises up near the balcony which used to belong to my friend Brady until he moved two weeks ago, a single leaf had come to rest on the surface of the snow, somehow still golden and crisp, its edges sharp and as new-seeming as if it were October instead of April. Duncan galloped right past it but I paused and reflected on the long winter days and nights, the bitter wind of the past few days, and the strength of that lone leaf as it clung to the tree it had known as home for so long. Why it chose today to fall instead of holding on a little longer, until a new family unfurled around it and protected it from the elements I'll never know. Perhaps it wanted only to fly and spin, just once, among the thick flakes which drifted from above, to realize the wonder that had perplexed it in the long, lonely months it has been alone.