The wind has picked up, the last breath of Fall sending leaves showering down and skittering along the pavement.
They lay piled thickly on rooftops and on the abandoned truck across the street. They clog gutters and gather at bases of bushes and trees. Eerily, they hang among the wispy remnants of Halloween cobweb.
Under the crisp blue sky, the whine of leaf blowers rings through the air, making the gentle rustle of our old-fashioned rakes sound more like a whisper than work. We are being shushed.
I laugh as the kids swing high and leap into space, plummeting into an enormous pile of crackling brown. They giggle as they crawl among the ladybugs, leaves stuck in hair and hoods and caught in fleece.
We tidy up after nature's clutter, cutting back summer's bounteous growth, now simultaneously overgrown and skeletal. Bringing order to chaos is a satisfying venture.
The birds are gone. And I feel the need to fill a feeder for the few stragglers who remain. The outdoors is muffled and smells of mold and dampness. There are no bees, only worms thriving on decay.
We witness as the colors of Autumn become the shivering nakedness of winter.
- Midwest Mom
