When I am on my morning walk I pay close attention to the ground beneath my feet. I have a wonky ankle, and accidentally stepping on an acorn or even a medium sized pebble could lead to a nasty twist and unpleasant consequences. I do see some odd things on the road or beside it, interesting discarded textile bits, a stray sneaker or two, once an entire bouquet of red roses, but this morning was the oddest.
Perhaps I've been reading too many police procedurals; to me this looks like a noose. I think there's a story here.
And while we're on the subject of crime novels, I'm deep into the series by Julia Spencer Fleming, in which the protagonists, a female Episcopal priest, former army helicopter pilot, pairs up with a chief of police, Vietnam vet, who just happens to be married. The series is well written, characters compelling, and the Upstate New York small town settings interesting. What I find particularly well done is the understated sexual tension between the two main characters. Will they? Won't they? And they solve crimes, too. Start with the first in the series, In the Bleak Midwinter.