I collected this leaf while visiting the Bronx Botanical Gardens 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.