Saturday, February 11, 2006

Sunday Pulls it Children From their Piles of Fallen Leaves

the fall i lived in paris, i picked up leaves everyday. the yellow ones i would gather at the bottom on the esclator, let them go at the top to slide down. it would make parisans smile or scoff at their day and the defiance of those trees to match the grey undergrounds. my sister used them as her debate block. ginko trees have the least evolved of leaves with their long, unbranched veins. when the wind blew through the esclator shaft, the leaves would get stuck in my coat pockets and my hair. i loved coming aboveground to be greeted by those darwin-loving, golden resiltiant trees. it was wonderuflly comforting for a girl like me who grew up jumping in my grandfather's leaf piles and scrapping knees on branches. the helipcopter ones i found in the park across from my apartment. the big rough ones with black spots are from scotland. there are a bunch i cant remember finding. i think you should know the best thing i ever gave you was that book of leaves. when you were missing that season somewhere across equators and oceans. i didn't want you to forget what autumn looked like, dear friend. it was the best present i've ever given anyone. i thought you should know.

*photograph by david scott, late night veiw from work, for more go to


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