The leaves are down

I was up at first light to scour the sky. Yesterday’s promise of blue had faded into thick cloud cover overnight.

In utter disbelief I studied the blanket of impenetrable grey; it was a bit disorienting, to say the least.

Now I sit with my cup of morning coffee, staring out the back window into our yard. There is a stillness in the air. I strain to listen for some still small voice, but only silence echoes in my ear.

Yesterday I raked the lawn and the beds and bagged the golden leaves. The results of my day of labor — seven stout brown bags, filled to the brim — stand quietly along the red-stone retaining wall that I built with my bare hands three decades ago.

Once again the yard is covered with yellow leaves, fallen overnight. One of the maples still retains several clusters: hangers-on that have yet to give up the ghost.

Today I shall resolve to put myself to raking once again. There are more bags to fill; there is a remnant that needs cleaning.


One comment on “The leaves are down

  1. daverls54 says:

    Yeah. Me too.



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