A leaf drooped and then seemed to have made no effort to break away and fall before them with such an instant of effrontery. The poplar was not to blame for that – the leaf should have been more faithful to the branch it had always stemmed from and could have stemmed from for tree-time to come, had it not been for its wildeish yielding-to-temptation philosophy which eventually led it to falling victim to ever-seducing wind. Good leaf! escaped freedom, well done! They walked on.
Naughty leaf! How dared it distract them from their mental brooding! At heart, the poor fellow enabled them to trump up a proper excuse not to brood for a while. So they hit upon whiling away their time under the poplar – the crowns of their heads leaning against the trunk – them taking a mirror posture. Not that they were benefitting sitting like that, but something could definitely come down like a bolt from the blue, from the tree.
- Like an apple on Newton?
- No, mate, it’s a poplar!
April 11, 2012