I Do Not Like Mondays

I saw something odd the other day. I backed my car out of the garage in a hurry to get somewhere, and as I swung the steering wheel around and directed the tail end of the car, I caught a glimpse out of the corner of my eye, and there it was.

It was a leaf — perfectly deep red, almost purple, from a Japanese Maple nearby. It was suspended in mid-air about four feet off the ground, twirling around gently, but not moving at all vertically. At first I puzzled at what was going on, since it was very peculiar, but then I caught a glint of light and realized the leaf had been snagged by a single strand of silk from a spider’s attempt there at web-making, reaching from the ground to a nearby tree branch.

How delicate it was, and how strange a sight! It struck me that in its own way, this leaf was a bit like life in all its fragility and beauty.

I have no photo or video of it; I can only describe it. Since I was, as I mentioned, in a hurry, I drove on and left this sight behind. And by the time I returned, the oddly suspended leaf was long gone, no doubt taken down by the slightest puff of wind.  

What’s the moral of the story, or the life lesson here? Carpe momentum. If that leaf reminded me a bit of life itself, it also made me think afterward that “he who hesitates is lost.” I’d sped on with my errand and missed out on capturing something out of the ordinary that I’d have liked to remember.

There’s never a guarantee of a next time, but I’ve been keeping it in mind. When and if I see something of this nature worth capturing, I’ll stop if at all possible and try to do so — no matter how big a hurry I’m in.

Content © Aaron G. Marsh