The Crunching Of Leaves

Every Kentucky autumn seems like a miracle to me. Sometimes I get in my car and just drive, no destination in mind, only a longing to see the bright orange, red, yellow, purple, green, and brown leaves hanging from small and massive trees alike. Some people place trees into a single category, but the truth is, trees have as many personality types as people. Some drop a leaf at a time, knowing the time is coming when they can no longer keep what they’ve made and beginning the transition of loss, yet reluctant to give up their entire livelihood until it becomes absolutely necessary. Others jealously guard what belongs to them, keeping each leaf in check until all in one moment, the weight of responsibility becomes too great, and every leaf is abandoned into the breeze.

A friend of mine accuses me of extreme morbidity, because the truth is, I enjoy the dead leaves on the ground just as much as I love them alive in the trees. Making a point to step directly on as many as I can throughout the course of a walk, I am filled with pure joy at the crunching sound released from beneath my feet. There is nothing so simple in life as the crunching of leaves.

Some of my favorite memories are bound up with crunching leaves:

Building fort outlines with friends as a child, the elaborateness of the structures causing my mind to reel even now. The kitchen was essential in order to shelter a teepee stick configuration holding a bucket of dirty water in which we mixed fallen walnuts to produce imaginary stew. Almost equally important was a living room to relax in when the days work had been completed, and though young, we new the importance of prioritizing a space in which a girl could see a man about a horse (theoretically, of course)……

Waiting for that one day of opportunity when my favorite Ginkgo tree on Lexington Avenue would share its spongy, bright yellow fan leaves, giving us an entire afternoon of childhood ecstasy as we wore ourselves out building up piles and jumping in, building up piles and jumping in……

Walking from the bus stop with Kelly sophomore year of high school, both of us stomping as hard as we could, and laughing hysterically……

Rolling my lawn mower over thick leaf accumulation and watching the machine spit out the puréed product in perfect uniformity……

Strolling through my college campus after a fascinating literary discussion, the smell of dried leaves in my nostrils, their resonating rustle in my ears as I contemplated life’s wonders, both big and small……

The anticipation of the Evely family Turkey Bowl on Thanksgiving, played amongst the fallen leaves with a belly full of culinary wonders……

These are the things that make Autumn mine, and now, I’m sharing them with you;)