As I glanced out of the window, I noticed some leaves painted with the withered colors of fall left behind on the branches of a tree. They weren’t meant to be there as it was February; long past the cool months of autumn and soon before the start of spring. They were left on the tree, they had sat there the entire winter when they should have moved onto the pavement or flown into the air, but for some reason they couldn’t find it within themselves to let go. They held on to the branches. Perhaps they were afraid of what would happen once they were to leave the tree. Perhaps they were purely too lazy to descend down to the sidewalk. Perchance there wasn’t a reason, none at all and they were just there, since they are in fact leaves and generally leaves don’t have free will… but no matter what the reason they weren’t meant to be there… and what was to become of them, when the tree begins to blossom new leaves? The tree was going to move on. In March as the wind begins to blow and the days begin to grow a bit longer it will blossom brand new emerald leaves but what will happen to these confused, lazy, inanimate leaves that were meant to move on months ago? Would they sit upon the tree forever or would they just wither away into the atmosphere and never be thought of again. I felt a strange connection to these leaves that day. As I too am stuck somewhere, I don’t know where it is, it’s not as tall or tangible as a tree. It’s somewhere more eerie and vague. It’s not concrete, there aren’t walls, a sky, a sun, or any branches. I couldn’t tell you exactly where it was, because it’s confusing enough to me, let alone someone who isn’t here. But maybe you’re there too and you know exactly what I’m talking about; the confusion, the claustrophobia, the darkness. Or Maybe none of this makes any sense, but all’s I know is I saw those leaves and felt for them, because as this season of spring approaches we both don’t know where we might fall.