Headed For A Fall


Autumn officially arrived this morning with the falling of the first leaf from the old sycamore on the south side of the house.  Its screams woke me a little after 6.  Within seconds, several of its fellow leaves had jumped down to try, unsuccessfully, to revive it.  Afterward, there was a short memorial service by the remaining foliage.  The wind whistled a few hymns, a branch made some remarks about what a good leaf it had been, and the breeze carried it around front and down the street. 

What with all that racket I decided I might as well get up.

Over my first cup of coffee and a rerun of “Bosom Buddies” I began to think about the late leaf and its fallen comrades.  I thought about the cycles of life and the futility of trying to “hang on”.  I thought about the coming and going of the seasons.  Finally, I thought how much easier it would be, for planning purposes, if humans would turn bright gold with a little crimson around the edges about 2 weeks before they were going to die.


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