As a physicist
, it was only a leaf
. A dry piece of organic
matter preferably reflecting light of certain wavelength
s which appear brown
when merged together, no longer undergoing photosynthesis
However, for a brief instant that leaf imparted a brief vision with many interpretations. The image, literally, was that the leaf was and was not a leaf, but instead a tiny dead leaf dragon, its wing sprawled out in the gutter.
The first message was that of winter, of death; the second was the corrollary, that in spring a thousand million such leaf dragons will be born to die again months later. Another message was to look after myself1 -- I was tired from both lack of sleep and three hours of lectures, and 'Dead Dragon' took on a specific, personal meaning. That god was speaking to me was also of merit, and the thought that a masterpiece was in my head, but that I lacked the tools to express it.
Memories fade as does the green of the leaf dragons, but records of art and writing do not decay as quickly. I shall endeavour to remember that leaf dragon and the impression it set on my mind, succeeding in making me think after the numbing of three hours of lectures.
But I didn't look back to the leaf dragon -- after all, it was only a leaf.
1: as I node at 1am.