About leaves

The foliage season is just about over. Today a brisk breeze has shaken all the dried husks from their branches, and a carpet of maple and birch leaves covers the ground. If I were twelve, I'd be raking them up so my brother and sister could jump in them. I'm not twelve, so I'm scuffing through them as I do some fall chores. As I came around the side of the house today, I got a warm little memory of Rocker and Rider dancing around a huge leaf fort (with me on the sidelines bossing them around, no doubt).

The thought makes me smile. We had such good times here, my brother, sister and I. As crazy as this place is, it was the perfect setting for leaf-jumping, woods-wandering, and pond-wading. I know Rider tries to tell her friends about her childhood, but there really are no words. This was the place kids wanted to be -- it still is, as evidenced by my mom's successful summer camp. I sometimes resent having no peace and quiet in which to study. I can track my ADD tendencies to our living room, where the TV was always blaring and the dogs were always barking, and people were always arriving unexpectedly to have a beer with my dad or trailride with my mom. Yeah, I remember the chaos. And the leaves.

Even trade, I think.