The leaf settles on the ground, the wind having done its job and carrying it from the branch to the uneven stones of a busy street.

The leaf is lost, and so afraid. It panics, struggles upward, and the breeze ignores it. It trembles on the ground, alone. Where have all of the others gone?

Its epic is one that is just beginning; part of nature flows from above to the ground, to find itself part of something new. Someday it will burrow into the earth again, and grow into itself.

But for now, the journey is only beginning.