Mapping the Fallen Leaf

Moving along the pavement seam, I reached the sturdy wooden leg of a park bench. Beside it lay a dried sycamore leaf, bleached pale brown and crisscrossed with raised veins. The intricate branching reminded me of a transit map. Standing beside it, I set down a small twig across the main stem to mark the central axis. Tracing the secondary veins outward with my fingertip, I followed each path until it tapered to the serrated edge. It was comforting to discover such precise geometry resting naturally on the concrete.