A whirlwind friendship

On my walk back from the Children's Hospital today, the sky was blue, the weather warm – a promise of spring after weeks under gloom and chill rain. Birds who had seen me off with happy chirps welcomed me back just as cheerfully, singing out from still-barren trees. As I passed through the parking lot outside my apartment, I heard a crackling reminder of autumn behind me. I turned around and met a young leaf devil, daughter of wind and earth, perhaps two feet high and twice as wide, decked in swirling brown with accents of red and green.

I walked alongside her politely, since we were going the same way, and we gossiped about the capricious clouds and the sweet cool breeze. And then, tired of such trivialities, my new friend swooped toward me, ruffling my hair and throwing leaves past my swinging legs. I found myself in the calm center of a hectic dance that whirled and cackled carelessly. When she moved beside me again, I knew her better; she was an inversion of the inner turbulence we hide behind placid outer masks.

We reached the edge of the lot, and I was surprised by the stately grace with which my friend skipped over the curb and down the sloping grass to the sidewalk, halving her width to slip between the trees in her way. She exchanged some of her leaves for those in the grass and briefly juggled a Styrofoam cup she found, but she soon tossed it back to me when she got bored.

We were now just across the street from my apartment. While I waited for a car to pass, she rushed forward recklessly and barely missed a collision (though I think she did lose a few leaves). Yet she then waited patiently for me to join her again, playing with flowers while I crossed. I thanked her for walking me to my building, and we bid each other goodbye. As I opened the door, I watched my friend drop the rest of her leaves and vanish into the air, joining the sweet cool breeze that tickled my face.

PS - If you have no idea what I'm talking about, check out her cousin here.