The morning is pretty with a bright sun glinting off the leaves in the backyard. It is getting warmer after last night, a chilly night. For the last few weeks, our weather has been following that same pattern, days in the low 70’s and nights in the 50’s. That seems about perfect.

When I was a kid, I loved the fall most of all. It seemed to touch every sense. All the trees were covered in red or yellow leaves, and when they started to fall, it was like a shower of colors above and below. The leaves fell quietIy and sometimes fluttered and danced as they fell. I remember the sound of the rake. My father raked the leaves into piles on the side lawn. The rake made a scratching sound, a rhythmic sound as my father went back and forth across the grass. After he was finished with the yard, he’d rake the leaves to the gutter below the small grassy hill, the hill we’d ride our bikes down. He’d burn the leaves. I can still see the smoke billowing. I can see my father in his red jacket standing by the pile to tend the fire. He’d feed it with more leaves. The smoke rose straight up from the pile. It smelled sweet and a bit earthy from the dirt clinging to the leaves. It is my favorite memory of fall.

I loved walking to and from school during the fall. The morning air was clear. It had a crispness, a chill. I‘d wear my jacket. It was warm enough for the mornings but too warm in the afternoons so I’d tie it around my waist or stuff it into my school bag. The sun was different on fall afternoons. It looked faded. Its light was slanted. The sun went down early and the air chilled. You knew winter was coming.

This entry was posted on September 16, 2024 at 11:57 am and is filed under Musings. You can subscribe via RSS 2.0 feed to this post's comments. Both comments and pings are currently closed.