This morning, I sat in my Adirondack chair while a little neighbor perched on the tree swing. The oak tree stood, tall and burnt orange, rising up into the rosy blue morning sky. When the wind picked up, the whole landscape turned into a downpour of swirling leaves. I told the little girl that if you Catch a Falling leaf, you can make a wish. (When I was little, my sister and I would catch Falling Leaves and make our wishes. I ran into the yard and caught falling leaves with my own daughters, now grown.)

I scurried around the yard with leaves falling everywhere but into my hands. I jump and grasped. I chased them down. Nothing. I came up empty every time. But the little girl? She caught an oak leaf right away!

“How did you catch that leaf so quickly?” I asked. “It’s so hard to do! You did it!”

“Well,” she said, “I just danced with the leaves. I did what they did. I twirled and moved with the leaves.”

I had been grasping and chasing; she had been dancing.

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