Conversation

Along the path I often walk are small frog ponds that often go dry for much of the year. But we've had plenty of rain, so the ponds are brimming full. I glanced down to notice one of the frog areas looking golden brown in the sun, as if some discarded metals had leeched out rust. It was beautiful, really. A closer look revealed that what seemed like rust was instead multiple layers of dead leaves, last Autumn's forgotten dead painting the world in bronze. Yet not a frog in sight. #smallstories