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Pause to reflect, then fire up the chain saw
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Published: October 17, 2009
It occurred about two or three weeks ago, and it has taken me this long to get over it.
I was sitting on my back porch late one afternoon when the flight of a bright red cardinal across the yard caught my eye. I was following the bird's fluttering when something else appeared in my vision.
It fell slowly, spinning and drifting sideways — the stem managed to stay upright all the way down to the ground. The first leaf of autumn had fallen, silently. It was a bright red maple leaf, and soon the yard would be covered with fallen evidence of what had been summer. The maple leaf had given shade, was with me when I barbequed the ribs and it had hung on tightly to its limb during thunderstorms.
Nature was reminding me that I had made another trip around the sun and I was now facing the end of another year. The season of summer was past and winter was just waiting for the thermometer to drop, and cold would pounce. My heart grew heavy.
We sentimental types constantly deal with heavy hearts — we should do more cardio exercises.
I look at an oak that was about my height when I first moved here, and now it towers above the roof line of the house. My tree has grown up — it's no longer a cute little sapling, but now has gnarly branches, old bird nests in it and drops sap on anything parked underneath it. It no longer sways easily in the breeze. The tree has become serious about life, realizes it can fall over and so it sends big roots down deep in the ground to play havoc with the foundation of my house. The cuteness is gone.
I sit behind people in a fast-food drive, though that is not going so fast. We sit so long I get to know the dings and scraps on the back of their car and I can make out the heads of the children as they play in the back seat. I break into a smile as I watch the kids bounce around inside the car. I like these people. We've been sharing moments and car fumes. Then, suddenly, they move up, hand someone money and drive off, thus ending the relationship I thought we had. I've been abandoned and feel a sense of loss. I decide yes, I'll have cheese on that burger — what the heck, I'm depressed, double the cheese!
Honestly, some days, my kind should not be let out of the house. But then the days grow shorter and the shadows become longer and the temperature drops. The woods are covered with bright colors, orange pumpkins appear in stores and I get my goose down jacket out of the basement closet. Now I crave foods like stews, chicken and dumplings with sweet potatoes, potpies and cinnamon.
I like to stand in the warm kitchen when skies are gray-shaded and the temperature is dropping outside as cold raindrops patter on the roof of the house. The kitchen is heavy with the smells of apple pie, boiled potatoes, sauteed onions and a beef roast mixed with the yeasty aroma of homemade bread.
Suddenly, I'm glad the leaf died and made way for all of this! And those people in the car? Well, I'm glad those screaming kids weren't mine! I make a note to buy a chain saw and solve the oak tree problem.
We sentimental types are also realists; it just takes some home maintenance issues and good food for us to come around. Time to burn some leaves and cut some firewood!
Joe Hudson can be reached at Joehud@hotmail.com
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