I've been cleaning out my garden beds and came across this leaf, once vital but now a delicate skeleton. It’s strange how something can lose so much and still remain unmistakably itself. The outline persists, the design intact, a memory that refuses to fade even when all its colors have drained away.
It's a quiet kind of survival.

We are all part of a recycled, composted world.
ReplyDeleteAshes to ashes...
DeleteWe are all part of a recycled, composted world.
ReplyDeleteA reminder that there is beauty in aging.
ReplyDeleteAll stages of life have their own beauty.
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