Oak leaves are falling into my garden. Little jigsaw-puzzle pieces lying around with no chance of re-assembly. That tree may last for another century; the potential number of leaves in my garden is beyond count.
Each leaf has finished its work. A little chemical factory waving in mid-air, freshening the air and filtering carbon dioxide. Photosynthesis has changed sunlight into food for the tree. The tree is providing acorns to feed the squirrels. All is well.
You see this leaf? It’s floating in the bird bath and making an intriguing pattern. Subtle colours and muted tones suit its retired status. The only thing left for the oak leaves is making leaf mould. But for now it makes a nice photo.
I’ve pondered my retired status this week. Things take longer than they used to.
I’m leading “Life Groups” on photography; and on understanding the Old Testament. It’s enjoyable – but the…
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