I collected this leaf while visiting the New York Botanical Garden in the Bronx with my family last month. The leaf appears to have been blown about the garden for some time: it is dried, beat-up, and frankly, rather ugly. I didn’t hold out much hope for it, but something about it intrigued me. When I began to photograph it, I was rather surprised at the soft, sensual sense of motion it revealed. It has the languid energy of a slow long stretch, or a curl of smoke rising in the still air.