Journeys 11-05-06
The leaves are coming down; great drifts of tree debris. On calm days the leaves come down like salt out of a salt shaker, forming a 3-D shadow of their tree on the ground. Windy days throw the leaves across town, cross-pollinating the waste of oak and elm, birch and cotton-wood. This year the un-harvested corn is a natural leaf-fence catching them like a net. With half the leaves up and half the leaves down, it still feels like fall is wrapping its arms around us in a cozy sweater.
At Halloween we crossed over. All the trees got a wake-up call, and their leaves started checking out like it’s the end of some huge foliage convention. Each leaf knowing that tomorrow its got to be some place else.
These next few weeks are a test of our tolerance for clutter. Some have that urge to “clean” while others prefer to leave the ground “A-nat-ur-‘al.” At the parsonage, our front yard is at the vortex of a great north wind funnel known as The Lincoln School Field. Any northerly wind over five miles an hour gifts our front yard leaves to the neighbors. Our back yard is dominated by two monstrous pin-oaks. They prefer to let go of their leaves from mid-winter to early spring. So their collection is a wet, snowy kind of thing.
Yard-care prepares now to go into hibernation. Before we know it, the angst of outward appearance and homeowner self-esteem will be transferred to keeping the sidewalks cleared of snow.
May God bless the blisters and splinters that define our relationship to that old rake. And may God find a way to reduce the constant calm day droning of the leaf blowers and the lawn mowers jacked up to vacuum the grass.
Grace & Peace,
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