Dear Maria,
And so it has come to this, that out front the larger elm has lost every single leaf and the pear has turned itself mostly into oranges and reds, but the young elm just seven months in the ground has lost hardly a leaf and is still summery green. I do not know what to make of it other than perhaps it is some sort of a snapshot of a man’s life arboreally rendered.
In every life some leaves must fall?
While walking Max this morning, I did meet a younger man, with his Cosmo at his side, who could easily identify my front yard as the one where some work has been done. I will allow that I did take some satisfaction in that recognition, and you know my fondness for by-my-hands work that produces good results—definitive, can’t-miss-it results.
I guess my scribbles in red ink over the years were by my hand—manual labor? But, how often the results, if there were any at all, did not necessarily bear fruit during the school season.
At lunch the other day, a good friend dutifully reminded me that I was not yet a full semester into retirement. See, we still talk the talk of school calendars. Yes, yes, I am nearly wholly new to my status as a retiree and not nearly re-created yet.
My father advises that whatever I may choose to do next should be meaningful. Suddenly I hear Old Dylan Thomas: “Bless, curse me now…”, with the out-of-context tag duly applied.
Meaningful. Perhaps that is a notion best left up to others to weigh in on.
After grinding espresso beans to make a couple of mugs of coffee, I waited at my old lectern now in the breakfast nook so that I may look out at the garden. A wind came up. Huge leaves unloosed fell like giant brown snowflakes. Even the dog took notice as he stood at the patio door. Down they came, not pouring, not floating, but streaming in a remarkably steady fashion. Like they had been waiting for today’s prompting.
And so every season will have its day.
Except, the loropetalums with so many leaves turning yellow are decided now to flower as well. Lovely that they should do so, when you think about it.
Be well, and hug the children.
As always, srk
I think your dear Dad was worried you may fall into the abyss I hear so much about. I believe its called Xbox?
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