Ahhh-October!
There's something about the colors and aromas and crispness of October that, when combined, present a most amazing awareness to one's senses. Add in apples and cider; pumpkins and candy corns and October climbs to the top of my most favorite list.
I wrote a little poem once about leaves which stated exactly how I felt about them: "Falling, tumbling, drifting down-I love the leaves when they cover the ground; Falling, tumbling, drifting down-I love the leaves all around!" I still feel the same about the leaves. I love watching them zipping and skipping and dancing across a field or highway. I imagine them in a giant hurry to get somewhere-all travelling in a clump like a family on a mission.
When I was growing up in the country leaves were meant to be played in. They were more than just leaves. They became giant mounds to jump in and hide in; getting up the nose, in the mouth, and stuck on clothes. None of that mattered when playing and pretending with cousins in leaf piles.
Just as much fun was the making of leaf houses. Painstakingly we'd rake leaves into a giant square or rectangle. Then we'd clear away any leaves from the middle and there we'd have a frame. Then we'd use
the leaves to designate the walls between the various rooms, leaving spaces for doorways. In the leaf bedrooms we'd make leaf beds with leaf pillows; in the leaf living room we'd make a leaf sofa and maybe a few leaf chairs; in the leaf kitchen we'd make a leaf table with a few more leaf chairs. We'd bring apples from home and eat them in our leaf kitchen. Thinking back, we never did make leaf bathrooms!
Most times the wind would sweep through and take our leaf houses away. But that never stopped us. No matter how many times we had to, we'd be back constructing new leaf houses with our rakes; sometimes playing into the evening with a big harvest moon as our guide. How very lucky we were!
I wrote a little poem once about leaves which stated exactly how I felt about them: "Falling, tumbling, drifting down-I love the leaves when they cover the ground; Falling, tumbling, drifting down-I love the leaves all around!" I still feel the same about the leaves. I love watching them zipping and skipping and dancing across a field or highway. I imagine them in a giant hurry to get somewhere-all travelling in a clump like a family on a mission.
When I was growing up in the country leaves were meant to be played in. They were more than just leaves. They became giant mounds to jump in and hide in; getting up the nose, in the mouth, and stuck on clothes. None of that mattered when playing and pretending with cousins in leaf piles.
Just as much fun was the making of leaf houses. Painstakingly we'd rake leaves into a giant square or rectangle. Then we'd clear away any leaves from the middle and there we'd have a frame. Then we'd use
the leaves to designate the walls between the various rooms, leaving spaces for doorways. In the leaf bedrooms we'd make leaf beds with leaf pillows; in the leaf living room we'd make a leaf sofa and maybe a few leaf chairs; in the leaf kitchen we'd make a leaf table with a few more leaf chairs. We'd bring apples from home and eat them in our leaf kitchen. Thinking back, we never did make leaf bathrooms!
Most times the wind would sweep through and take our leaf houses away. But that never stopped us. No matter how many times we had to, we'd be back constructing new leaf houses with our rakes; sometimes playing into the evening with a big harvest moon as our guide. How very lucky we were!
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