This is part of a daily writing project in conjunction with photographer Sarah Tesar. For every day of May 2017 I will be writing a short piece inspired by Sarah’s daily photos as posted on her Instagram feed.
Photo © 2017 Sarah Tesar
One wisp of a seedling. Picked up by the winds and sent far, far away. Spinning and arcing and dancing on the breeze and currents that zigzag without a feeling. Gentle and interlocking. Utterly random; any direction may be.
The tiny little white wisp. Like a miniature tree, with leaves and branches finer than feathers. Thrown all about, in a vague direction. Flying off to wherever it may land. Wherever it may lay to do new business of life. To continue the work of its kind, subtle and quiet and imperceivable until next year. Patient. Oh so patient.
So dance awhile. Then rest. And then set the stage for a new dance.
With dozens of new little dancers to go.
© 2017 Andrew Hall Writes