Autumn Afternoon

Autumn Afternoon

As I sit on the front porch using the last of the day’s light to glance over the evening paper, I feel the slight chill that has crept into the air. I have spent the late afternoon watching the golden brown leaves of the sycamore tree float slowly and gracefully to the ground. The pine straw is a bit heavy on the now browning grass in my front yard. I know I shouldn’t be wasting my time just sitting on the front porch. I know I should be in the yard raking up the leaves as they fall. I just can’t bring myself to leave my perch. I, after all, have a perfect autumn view.
I can sit quietly listening to the birds getting ready to nest at evening light. I can watch the squirrels preparing themselves for the fast approaching winter. I can see the pink shimmer of an autumn evening sunset. I can smell the soft fragrance of a fireplace beginning to burn. I feel the cold breath of winter beginning to creep into the fast approaching night. My toes, poking out of the sandals that I have lived in since April, are suddenly quite nippy.

I know that soon, I will wake up to a yard that has been diamond studded with the first frost. All the leaves will have finally found their final resting place in my front yard. The children will be catching the school bus in the early twilight of morning wearing new sweaters and jackets. Thanksgiving and Christmas decorations will soon be showing up, glowing brightly in windows and dancing across lawns. The sound of chainsaws whining and axes cracking will be echoing across the neighborhood announcing the golden glow of fires and the perfume of smoke to come.

I almost hate to think about removing the fallen leaves from the yard. They are a signal of the coming changes. The slow, methodical grace of the leaves falling down is as graceful as the soft, gray, billowing of smoke coming up from the chimneys. The newly grounded leaves are the signal that winter is fast approaching. They act as a reminder to get out your winter coats and blankets. They tell you to winterize the lawn mower, to break out the rakes and leaf bags, and get the yard ready for colder weather. Listen to them.

I don’t think I’ll worry about the leaves today. I may not worry about them tomorrow, either. I may just spend the early fall sitting on my front porch. Just sitting and watching as the season shows her finest colors and changes moods as quick as the fall wind blows.

Then again, I may not have to rake them. Maybe there will be a good strong wind to blow them all away into the oblivion of my next door neighbors yard. I never liked her anyway.