Faith and I went camping this past weekend at Colorado Bend State Park, which is the main reason why I've neglected posting in nearly a week. It was our first camping trip together since marriage, so we were definitely due for some time away. The scenery was beautiful and the hiking & kayaking was exciting, to say the least. The companionship was definitely enjoyable as well...as Faith and I went with another fairly-newly married couple from church. Not too much to go into as far as details go--to the uninvolved it would sound like any other camping trip, while in reality it was much much more. That said, a quick story ensues:

On Saturday morning, the four of us decided to take a short, guided tour to a spot in the park called Gorman Falls. It's a beautiful, spring-fed waterfall that drops 60-70 into the Colorado River. While at the falls, I noticed plenty of leaves falling off of the surrounding trees. (Now this may seem ordinary or dull, but for me this was quite thrilling, as I've always had a keen interest in watching leaves fall and flutter down to earth.)

Reminiscent of the autumns in Virginia, these colored leaves seemed out of place in the 90-degree heat of Texas. Regardless, I watched with gratitude as these bits and pieces of the trees flipped and fluttered...at times, seeming as if they were parachuting.

Some landed in bushes.
Others on the bank next to the creek.
Still others would land in the water below the falls and race through the rapids into unknown waters.

During these brief moments, I sat in awe over the vulnerability of the leaves as they fell off the tree. It's as if they dropped from their perch, whether by choice or by some force outside of their control, and found themselves completely at the mercy of another being (i.e. the wind, other leaves or trees). As I watched this leaf and the next tumble to their unknown (and unexpected) destination, I couldn't help but draw parallels.

And I'll leaf it at that.