Olden Times and the Leaf Dancer.

I was just reading a few old posts of mine, and felt a little wistful at the fact that I used to make the odd good one in more relaxed times. I’m rarely in the mood these days (well, let’s say ‘at the moment’) to tip out the box of unrelated and occasionally surreal toys, and decide which ones to play with tonight. But, never mind; phases come and phases go.

When I was walking back up the lane tonight, something small scurried across my path. To all appearances it was a bunch of shrivelled leaves on a twig, blowing in the wind. ‘How many roads must a man walk down?’ I thought. Or even up, in my case. (It’s uphill all the way from the pub.)

So anyway, the bunch of shrivelled leaves did a little pirouette and then waited for me to catch up. And then it led the way, dancing from side to side in my torch beam like a performer in a follow spot. It continued like that for quite some time before eventually bowing out and returning to the verge.

It was only a bunch of shrivelled leaves, wasn’t it? It couldn’t have been anything in disguise, could it? No, of course it couldn’t. Still, I’m little short of mortified that I didn’t think to applaud.