I watched a plastic grocery bag roll down the road like a tumbleweed.
I was on my way home so I thought I'd pick it up.
The wind was blowing it my way so I walked along behind.
It was cold but the sun was coming through high clouds.
It hit a bit of water puddled from melting ice.
It stopped and breathed and quivered and I wondered briefly if this puddle had ended the bag's joyous rolling tumble in the sun.
With the help of the wind, the bag turned over and soon over again and, compact and steeled now with a quickly freezing brown water on it's sides, rolled faster than ever over snowbanks and driveways and lawns and the road.
A few houses from mine, the bag tumbled far up onto a neighbor's lawn and came to rest upon the sticks coming out of a garden.
In front of the bag now if the wind kept up was a long hedge that looked very ready to catch it safely and hold it until the neighbors saw it and decided to pluck it up and send that plastic bag on it's journey to the dump.
I smiled a little, as I got to keep my gloves on while I walked up my driveway empty handed, as I love to be.