"I do love a good cup of coffee after a dinner like that," I sighed, "But I should have known better. I didn't get to sleep until two."
"It was decaf, " said my grandmother, heartlessly.
Still, I was quite tired when I toddled down to the park this afternoon, which might be one reason I was staring into puddles instead of paying attention to anything in the real world. 2010 came in with no great flourish in these parts, and the day was very dark and very still, brooding over the morning's rainfall. Bits and pieces of trees began to appear in the small puddles, plunging weirdly down into a sky which was, if anything, darker than the one over my head. The size of the puddles precluded getting in a whole tree, in most cases, but the focus this limit imposed made for some rather interesting views.
A sad and wispy bit of a tree in a sad and wispy bit of a puddle:
The largest puddle held nearly a whole sycamore: