Those trees that provide shade during summer give free material for compost in the autumn. Unfortunately, my trees are unable to place the leaves in the right spot.
Leaf raking might not sound like much of a date, but if it must be done I intend to have fun doing it. My honey prepared the rakes and wheelbarrow. My dog wandered across the law and collected leaves in her fur. I put mulled cider in the slow cooker and made pumpkin scones.
The sun was warm, no wind blew, the temperature held at a balmy 75 degrees Fahrenheit. The pile of leaves grew on the front lawn until it was so large I was tempted to jump in like a kid. I contemplated whether it would seem immature and silly. Absolutely not; enjoying life as it comes is essential.
I fell backward and wiggled my arms to burrow deeper. My dog joined in by jumping on top of me, yipping and then licking my face. More leaves flew to cover us. My honey scooped them into the air and let them fall. The dog jumped out and tried to catch the leaves. Even with time out for fun, the leaves ended up in the compost pile and we took time to relax.
My honey proposed a toast with a cup of warm cider. "To fertile imaginations and the soil that gives them life."
I never would have guessed raking leaves could be so romantic. My new appreciation for trees goes beyond their contribution to cleaner air, shade, windbreak and all those attributes that make planting more good for the environment. Trees are a living metaphor for growing love.
THE END
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