Colorful autumn leaves offer us eye candy now.
Sugar maple trees are warm and beautiful. Childhood
memories of many-hued leaves our Dad raked into
piles in Sturbridge. Shrieking, we jumped into the
leaf piles. It’s what kids do! As I take in all
the colors, the outdoors beckons. After another
frost, I wanted some photos of our gardens before
winter’s white blanket covers everything.
Yesterday the collards were ready to harvest.
My deceased librarian colleague informed me
that collards taste their finest after the first
frost. Noting that no more apples were on
the lawn, I spied two young bushy tails climbing
one tree to pluck apples off a branch. The winds
will help the remaining ones fall for greedy paws
to hold for the feast. Some of our birds greet
me in song. They shelter in our bird houses
to get protection from Nature’s elements.
Crisp air. Warm colors. Sights and sounds of
fall: raking leaves, final mowing of lawns.
The annual rites of passage of our lovely
four seasons in Upstate New York. I do
not adhere to the camp of those who
complain of how cold the weather is.
No, I smile to myself as I fondly recall
my Massachusetts childhood: the leaves at
the Old Sturbridge Village. Snowsuits.
Blueberry picking with empty pails
but blue mouths from eating the
blueberries the best way: by the
handful directly off the bush. So tasty.
Bundle up now and get rosy cheeks.