Autumn chores in Montana…
Raking Aspen leaves,
Birch-white trunks glimmering in the bright sunshine.
Jackie and I outside,
chattering like Pennsylvania chipmunks
transplanted to the quiet of a Montana afternoon.
Raking Montana leaves isn’t as colorful as the combination we get at home:
Maple, Sweet Gum, Poplar, Oak, so many more.
But here there are horses stomping in the field,
Airedales ripping and tearing around us,
remnants of sixteen inches of snow tucked under a shadowy tree.
Wheelbarrow after wheelbarrow,
We pile leaves in and move them deeper into the woods.
The sun is hot,
The air is still.
It is a perfect day.
I always want to tag a leaf and see if it blows back into the yard
where we eventually rake it again.
Or if it catches a wind current that sets it off on a journey all it’s own
that sends it far, far away.
People are like that … sometimes we rebound right back to the places we love the most and sometimes we dash out into the world, creating new places to call home.
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Love the fall description and the image of you and your dear sister chattering and raking on a gorgeous day. Your thought of tagging a leaf to see if it comes back reminds me of a favorite childhood book “Attic of the Wind” and if you are interested I’d love to share it. It’s about what happens to things that blow away…………
Seester, when you look outside this morning it is as if we never raked! They all came back!