Nothing Can Stand Still

Nothing can stand still. If it were to do so absolutely, I could not see it; if I were to cease scanning, I could not then see; therefore change is all. These were my thoughts as I walked a dog, watching my year run down.

Apples were falling; I chose one to eat. Hips blushed fiercely; I stuffed my pockets full. Ash and maple and willow turned and turned. Restless mice and voles risked their all for seeds. We reached the river; a trout rose, an osprey plunged; they met and flew as one.

An osprey will turn a trout head first in flight, you know -- for improved aerodynamics. I disbelieve it; surely the bird is kind. It turns the trout to show it what's to come.