I blandly opened the front door to go out the other day, and POW!, lying right in front of me was a single perfectly formed maple leaf stridently announcing the fall season.
Its center was canary yellow while its outer edges were still a pure green. There was no browning on its edges; there was no curl in its contours. It just lay there, in all its sturdiness, as a strong beacon, as an item with heavy, provocative symbolism.
Yes, it jarred me out of my blandness. Our strange weather-wise summer was winding down and would soon be over.
I pondered and looked around for other signs, but could find nothing as powerful as this single leaf. I brought it inside and thought to press it into a book in order to remember how it had so startled me.
Then, the next few days were spent, in idle moments, pondering how we go along, expecting that nothing will change, and then either world events, family news, or a fall into a pothole can change what we so blithely take for granted as we charge full steam ahead through our daily lives.
Soon there will be the chill in the air, the trees will festoon themselves in brilliant colors; there will be that moment when the amount of leaves on the ground appear to be the same as on the trees, and the horizon line will briefly disappear into this riot of color. But, right now, I want to stop time.
I want summer. Where was it this year? A few tantalizing days of warmth were followed by rainy days. I admire and covet the grand sunflowers I see in our local gardens. I guess the birds dined on my seeds. My squash plants just sat in the spot where the seed had been planted instead of winding upward and rampantly cascading through, around and over my shrubs and small trees. Last year there was a magnificent gourd that tangled itself within an apple tree. It was a splendid, vibrant sight.
I want more summer warmth so I can cling to summer memories - the old ones and the new ones trying to be made. I know that there will be warm September days. I can only hope that the usual chill to the air will stay away a bit longer. Meanwhile I plan to blithely ignore the next colorful fall leaf that has the cheekiness to place itself directly in my pathway.[[In-content Ad]]