Pot Luck

It was that wet kind of rain, steady, not heavy, but drenching. I stood under the birch tree, tugging at the peak of my hood, trying to keep the plastic bag protecting my camera from blowing away.

Thin branches weighed heavy by sodden leaves swayed abruptly as the wind switched direction. All I could do was focus part way into the canopy and take whatever I was given.

A dozen shots, all different, I chose this one with just one leaf in focus against the light, its crazy paving kind of veining clearly visible. Pot luck.