i used to have random day dreams about a world that used leaves for currency.
the beautiful jewel tones, sunbursts of red inside green glossy leaves...
they would all be snatched up as they hit the ground.
trees would never have the chance to go out in a blaze of glory, to be admired as they died...
because people wanted to profit from their beauty.
leaves were snatched up and fall came and went without the yellow, red, and orange snowfall.
the kind you drive your truck through, windows down, and breathe in deeply as the surreal tunnel of trees passes.
and instead of resting on the ground and curling up to stay warm...
what life remained in the trees was shoved into pockets, wallets, and purses.
i suppose such random daydreams came from thinking 'what if we treated beautiful things like money...' one day as i fingered a tired, crumbled old one dollar bill. it was ripped a fourth of the way in and looked as dirty as my dad's hands after working on a car all day.
well, for his entire life, rather.
then i realized...
we already do, don't we?
one day while thinking of that i found a perfect leaf.
the red was pure scarlet and the green that spouted from the middle of the field of blood could not have shown more life than it already did, the glossy, waxy texture just making the colors all the more vibrant.
i turned it over a few times and considered taking it back to my room and putting it under a book...
then i simply laughed; i think the leaf and i had finally reached an understanding.
a strong wind came and i tossed it in the air, watching as it swirled away.
i suppose some things are best remembered alive.
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