DAILY PHOTO: Low Tide Tree
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A leaf falls, spinning as it drifts downward. Then, for an instant, it seems to pause in the air before continuing to drop, twist, and flutter. I question whether the leaf stopped, my mind stopped, or the universe stopped. Probably, nothing stopped -- a mere momentary balance of updraft and gravitational pull, an unstable and ephemeral equilibrium, like a spontaneous retention of breath -- usually missed before it can be noticed, but just this one time, I was witness. a falling leaf seems to pause in air, and I am there

soft petals,
tumbling & swirling
in a light breeze

the elephant
they said was on a rampage
just had a bad toothache

the tree reaches,
drunkenly meandering
in search of light
The landscape is strewn with boulders, its topography formed from piles of them, its flat fields dotted with them. These boulders are the remnants of a once mighty mountain -- an ancient mountain. People stand in awe of those rough, angular slabs of granite, standing a mile high. But those are the young whippersnappers. This mountain is so old that it's just a pile of bones, devoid of connective tissue or fleshy covering. It's a corpse of a mountain that has half buried itself. the ancient mountain is now bone-smooth boulders its age unsung