a very small thought

I stared at the undersides of the maple trees from thirty feet below. They cut into the evening sky with three large bites, the black edges of the leaves trailing into a different blue. It was like looking at holes punched in the earth, like there were stars that sat past the ceiling we so often see.

Right then and there, I thought good and hard about what those trees looked like, and how I might describe them to you. Because I knew they were beautiful, but I didn't know how. I couldn't think of anything. It's only now I realize I could have wondered what the sky looked like because of them. What they were doing to the nature around. That's a different way of thinking about it. A very small thought that will remain right here.