Caution: Contains Water!

A dripping tap occurs when you don’t turn the tap off properly. It drips in its own time and own pace, and gradually drains away the water that is left inside. Sometimes it drips several times a minute. The dripping tap only ever stops when someone intervenes or when it has drained away too much, and has no more drip left to give. Every tap has its own individual way of dripping, some drip fast and some drip slow, but it’s only ever a matter of time before the final drip falls, and with every single fall, it comes closer to the inevitable last drip. 

As I sit here waiting for that last drip to fall, and waiting for the end of the day to arrive, I try and imagine myself in a different location where I can comfortably endure the activities that are taking place. I try not to look at the clock to much and before I know it I am suddenly at the half way point. I take a deep breath, I leave my seat and I walk.  

I walk along taking in my surroundings and trying to notice things that I haven’t before.  Brown leaves surround me everywhere. I look on the pavement in front of me and I see millions of brown leaves. I look behind me, the brown leaves have now parted slightly by the mark of my almost forgotten foot print, but they are still very much there. I look up suddenly as one brushes passed me without any consideration for my sight and the pathway that lies ahead. I look back as it slowly and delicately falls to the ground. I stop for a moment in my tracks, and stare at the brown leaf that now lay’s in front of me. I bend down and pick it up carefully laying it to rest in the palm of my hand.

Seeing this leaf up close for the first time, I notice something. I notice that it’s not completely brown. The bit right in the very middle is completely green, lush green even. I look at this leaf still standing in the middle of this suburban street, wondering why I am still standing here in the middle of this suburban street looking at this leaf. When it suddenly all becomes apparent. I realise in this moment that this leaf is in fact a living entity, and so in turn it exists much like I do. It is alive, much like I am. With this new understanding I saw something in this leaf that I hadn’t seen before. Hope.

Although the tips of this leaf were most certainly dead, the core was still very much alive. I thought about this for a moment and remembered seeing a leaf much like this one last year. This leaf knew that in order to make its green centre spread it would need to add time, effort and of course water to fulfil its aim. This leaf had hope, and without this hope it could not have successfully bloomed in the way that it did. Because I had seen this other leaf change in such a way, I knew that there was a chance for the one still resting in the palm of my hand. There was still hope, and surely this could happen again.

So I decided to add action to this hope. I sped up my pace, changed direction and soon arrived at a local water fountain. Here I turned the tap on, and watched as the contents fell gracefully over the leaf. I sat there and I just watched. As it continued its course and the last drop eventually fell, I imagined the green core slowly but surely beginning to spread and fully cover the entirety of the surface area. Only when this was complete, would I turn the tap off and return from my walk.

Up until now, I am still waiting. And the tap, is still very much running.