Dried eucalyptus on our wood table. Faded colours of green, dusty purple and brown.
At the "Green Waste" section of "The dump" last fall Eucalyptus heaped in a pile. I brought a clump home.
I remember the smell. But now it is just a brittle curving limb, branches in a drooping form where once standing up right and as if receptively
swaying. Its smell and movement encouraged by heat and wind.
Beside the bouquet on the table a stack of books, "Wabi Sabi for Artists, Designers, Poets & Philosophers" among other books.
In this one: “[to] suggest() the universe is in constant motion toward or away from potential" (1)
It is soon time to put the branches back outside to become nothing and mud again.
(1) Leonard Koren, Wabi-Sabi for Artists, Designers, Poets & Philosophers (Berkeley, Calif.:Stone Bridge 1994), 45.
Snowy walk to the outskirts