“Do you know," Peter asked, "why swallows build in the eaves of houses? It is to listen to the stories.” ~ J.M. Barrie, Peter Pan

10.29.2008

Autumn Sleepyheads

Oh, these leaves are in the way in summer.

They are all over the place in the summer, hanging from the fence post next to the bridge in the front yard - did you know I have a bridge in my front yard? - a small one built of rocks, crossing the city creek that runs just a few feet from my front door? Well, I do, and these leaves lay in wait all summer, green & full of life & sassiness & they grab at you when you pass by, like a kitten who hides behind a door, swatting softly at your ankle when you get near, but because we like the wildness of them, we let them stay, we let them have their way. There are tons of them; generations of them, no doubt, having family reunions & telling tales about the floods they've seen & the dogwood tree that once stood next to the little green house in the backyard, and gossiping about the pear trees & their absolutely decadent blossoms, and complaining about the pecans that fall into their midst every autumn. Oh, you can just hear them go quiet when you get close, and you know they've been talking about you, too, and when you get far enough away, you can hear the rustle of their whispers begin again.

In the fall they are quieter, sleepy from all that visiting that's been taking place, and they begin to put on their winter clothes, preparing for overnight frosts - the young leaves are the last to take cover, because they have no idea what cold feels like. The elders, however, change quickly, muttering about the silliness of these green youngsters - shaking their heads with annoyance & impatience. And we are rewarded with autumn bouquets hanging outside the door, thanking us for another wonderful summer, and yes, they say, they'll be back next year, but for now, please, could we keep it down . . . shhhh, they say . . . we must sleep.

"Listen!
the wind is rising,
and the air is wild with leaves,
We have had our summer evenings,
now for October eves!"-
Humbert Wolfe
all still - summer is over

6 comments:

  1. Your art is surreal, your thoughts are insightful, your connection with nature is intuitive, your work is a gift.

    It is time for falling, and I hear a sweet surrender in your being.

    ReplyDelete
  2. Oh Debi, you have filled me with wonder this morning....leaves grabbing at you when you pass by, like a kitten who hides behind a door, swatting softly at your ankle when you get near...

    How absolutely perfect is that description? I can feel those leaves on my ankle, just like a soft tiny paw.

    I love how the leaves speak to you.

    xoxo

    ReplyDelete
  3. D~

    Jamie already said it better than I could. I read her comment and thought, "What she said."

    Seriously, Girl, you can write!!!! It's the last of the pansies that whisper about me. I can just see in their faces that they've got a secret.

    ReplyDelete
  4. Mermaid - I feel a shift within me. Something has moved, has eased. Perhaps it is a falling, knowing I will be caught.

    Jaime - They do speak to me. I used to be embarrassed to admit this, but no longer. :)

    Relyn - Oh, those pansies. Their secrets keep them lit with color when other flowers have long since paled. I'm sure it's a family secret & they will share it with no one.

    :) Debi

    ReplyDelete
  5. Girl, you rock 24/7! You really should be published. I mean in a big way. Picture Oprah's Book of the Month club. That big.
    That's what I see...

    ReplyDelete
  6. Paula - You make me laugh! But thank you!!!

    :) :)

    ReplyDelete

come. sit under the emma tree & let's talk. i have cookies . . .