“Drop the Leaf, Louie”

“Put it on the ground!”

The woman ahead of me on the hiking trail mildly admonished her small son, who was lagging behind her. I thought the child must have picked up a worm, or doggie doo, or a bad habit. As I got closer, though, I saw that the boy was holding a huge leaf. If he held it up in front of his face, he would disappear. The child was valiant in defying his mother’s order. Brave little soldier.

The boy ambled about, unwilling to shed himself of this forest treasure — and perhaps reluctant to get within range of a parent with confiscation on her mind. I empathized with him. When I was a kid, I asked my dad to stop the car on the side of the road so I could collect giant pinecones that I spied as we drove along the highways that cut through the California mountains.

The mother repeated her instruction: “Drop the leaf, Louie.” I passed the boy and then the mother and continued along the trail. I don’t know how it all turned out, but I hope that giant leaf made it home with Louie.

Now, I admit that I don’t know the whole story. Maybe there was a good reason why the mother didn’t want the boy to keep carrying the leaf. I’m quite sure it wasn’t poison oak or cannabis, but perhaps the leaf distracted the boy and he wasn’t keeping up with the mother’s desired pace — they had things to do other than just putter around in the woods.

Undoubtedly, the child was in awe. The enormous leaf monopolized his attention. At least for this moment, it was his. He could twist it around in his little hands and marvel at its immensity and beauty. Maybe he was dreaming up what he might do with the leaf or what he could fashion it into. Perhaps he wondered what kind of tree could produce such a leaf and how big the tree could grow. Whatever his thoughts were, his actions taught me something.

Living Like Louie

As children, our instincts include awe, curiosity, imagination, and connection to nature. Too often, those instincts eventually get beaten out of us to a large degree. Many of us spend too much of our lives indoors, busy, distracted, and moving at a fast pace.

I admire Louie. He reminded me to be childlike, embracing traits that are vital to thoughtful living: awe, curiosity, imagination, and connection to nature. I choose to join Louie by getting outside more, slowing my pace, and finding things that render me awestruck and make my imagination run wild.

I’ll hold on to that leaf.