i drove a car the other day. i just returned from europe, and driving was still a novelty at that point. i felt the usual apprehension on my way to the store, but i became comfortable again on the ride ride back to my parents’ house. despite the a chill in the air, i eased down the driverside window so i can could better feel the jump whenever the tiny car locked into gear. as i approached my parents’ street, i saw a small, brown form. it was only a few inches long. it shuffled into the middle of my lane and i instinctively downshifted to a slow creep. it looked to be some woodland creature, maybe a squirrel. it nervously hesitated before sprinting a bit further and then stopped. as i approached the little guy, i realized he was nothing more than a leaf. a crisp autumn leaf pushed to the middle of the road, shaking in the cold.

i realize it was leaf. i’m sure i’d crushed dozens on my short ride, but i couldn’t bring myself to run over this one. for fear of the stiff wind blowing it under my tire, i stopped, reversed, and took a different route home.

strange, unusual, childish. acutely so for me. what happened my cold rationalism? i thought it was my trademark.

and on the topic of streets, why does that word always hold an inherent association with underprivledged, urban youth? streets are literally everywhere. i would even wager that a vast majority of the world’s richest people also live on streets. just saying.