We've all seen one. Perhaps it was a rock formation that looked like Santa Claus. Or, say, a sidewalk stain in the shape of Freddy Kruger.
Lately, we've had a bird's eye view of a freak of nature:
Martin calls it the leaf box.
It's growing in a tree located in the yard of the neighbor who lives behind us, as seen in the picture, above.
And since it's easily viewed from our couch, Martin has had time to study it in detail. In fact, it fascinates him. “We should sell tickets,” he suggested last month.
“I've got better things to do,” I pointed out. “You know—like, say writing books?”
“But think about it! People go to all sorts of places to see crazy things! There's a waterfall in Australia that flows blood red. And how about those 600-pound rocks that move all over Death Valley National Park on their lonesome? And what about those volcanoes that produce lightning?”
“None of those things can be seen from our yard," I explain. "Even if they could, I wouldn't allow you to charge admission for others to traipse back there to see it.”
“You don't get it! San Francisco is a tourist mecca. People come from all over the world to see that tiny Yoda statue on the LucasFilm campus in the Presidio.”
“Earth to Martin: we're a mile and a half from Yoda, and three and a half miles from the Golden Gate Bridge. What makes you think tourists will see pay to see the leaf box when they can view both of those things for free, not to mention the TransAmerica Pyramid, Crooked Lombard Street, and the seals at Fisherman's Wharf?”
He pouted. But he got it.
Now that the leaf box is losing its shape, I think Martin is finally coming around to my way of thinking. I guess it's time hd got himself a hobby or a side gig. But the leaf box ain't it.
