The drip

I took some time the other day to go on a walk without my phone.

I found myself in a laneway behind some homes. A house had a planter hanging from a low window.

It had rained that morning and everything was still a bit wet.

I stopped to look at the plants and notice the drips that were still sitting on a leaf.

There was one drip that was blanced on the end of a leaf, not yet falling, just waiting at the very tip.

I reached out my finger to touch it and it transferred to my fingertip.

I moved it back to the top of the leaf so it could start it’s journey again, spend some more time on the leaf before finally falling to the ground.


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