So who was late with the leaves thing, then? *

So another season's suddenly been and gone, and you're still wearing your yellow leaves when everyone else seems to be all sorted and prepared. What happened? Where does time go? How come everyone else seems to manage so much more in the same time frame? When one slaves and slaves and couldn't possibly be putting any more time into what one has to get done - one would like to, certainly, and would, too, if only it was possible for one to tamper with time's inner workings and give oneself, say, twenty-eight or even thirty-two hours where others have to make do with the usual twenty-four (one might even, under these conditions, find the time to sleep a bit more than four or five hours a night - which would feel like a total luxury and no mistake). Alas, one can't, and is consequently forever running huff-puff-huff-puff to catch up (keeping up being an attempt long since abandoned as impossible).

I bet the other trees are pointing and whispering behind their branches, you know.


* excuse the fuzzy - I took it with my mobile (yes, we have snow)