The branch - entering the frame from above, zig-zagging its way to the bottom of the paper, crossing a pathway, and hitting the ground with flecks of pink light touching the outer layers of its leaves of needles - surprised me. Yet it shouldn't have.
Branches are sign of growth. Willingly or unwillingly. Willingly: the beautifully illustrated family tree with branches of interconnected generations of smiling faces of fathers, mothers, daughters and sons. Unwillingly: Such as the troublesome branch that falls across your path.
A way has to be found around it, but usually you realize that while you thought you were going around it, you - in fact- landed on another path.
At times this shift of direction is blatantly apparent. At other times it is not until the moment of looking in the back mirror, long after, that now, and only now, do you realize how that particular change of event impacted your life.
So the branch here does not surprise me, as I am feeling the air of change around me. And I don't mean a bad change. Just change. Even quite possibly - as is often the outcome - a change for the much better. But I am not sure if this one is of the blatantly apparent or one for the back-mirror. I will have to see...