Autumn Leaves, Raking Up Ideas

November 27, 2015  •  Leave a Comment

Bare catalpa tree and storm clouds

I love when the air turns crisper, the leaves break out in their bright colors, and the holiday season seems closer than ever. Eventually, the leaves fall off of the trees, and the landscape takes on a much gloomier appearance. Hopefully, the snow isn't too far behind. Nothing like a good snow to brighten up the place.

My job has been slow lately, and I have been told not to come in to work. Annoying as that is, I must remain productive with my time. So, I turned my attention to my home. The yard is buried, not under snow, but under layers and layers of leaves; it's pretty bad out there. Tyler, the owner of the house, had surgery on his wrist and cannot do any household chores. The leafy responsibility must fall on me.

Maple Leaf Against a Break in the Clouds Seed Pod Harvest

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Looking at the massive piles of leaves, the task of raking seemed insurmountable. The bags of leaves were multiplying, but the piles didn't seem to be getting any smaller. I felt like I was at a standstill, spinning out my tires where I stood. There was clearly forward progress, as evidenced by the giant stack of bags, but I wanted this job done faster.

Chores have always had a clearing effect on my mind, causing my thoughts to point inward. Honestly, in my life, I can see forward progress, but I am not getting to where I want to be fast enough. I imagine everyone feels this way about their lives from time to time. Opportunities slip through my grasp like handfuls of leaves; Patience and persistence are key. All of this may sound bleak and gloomy, but let me be clear about one thing; I am not unhappy. These kinds of situations are typically the beginnings of something new.

In the meantime, mountains of leaves are raised, then razed; I filled up twenty-seven bags and sent them on their way; Now, on to something new.

 
 
Fallen Leaf on a Log
Spades take up leaves Wedged Beauty in a Tree
No better than spoons,
And bags full of leaves
Are light as balloons.

I make a great noise
Of rustling all day
Like rabbit and deer
Running away.

But the mountains I raise
Elude my embrace,
Flowing over my arms
And into my face.

I may load and unload
Again and again
Till I fill the whole shed,
And what have I then?

Next to nothing for weight,
And since they grew duller
From contact with earth,
Next to nothing for color.

Next to nothing for use.
But a crop is a crop,
And who's to say where
The harvest shall stop?

 

Gathering Leaves by Robert Frost

 

 


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