Leaf Falling In September

My larder is empty of decaffeinated coffee. If you are wondering why I would open with that statement it is a personal internal declaration that I want some. Sitting in my beautiful back yard a place not too warm nor too cold I could enjo...y the taste of coffee (alas sadly without the stimulant effect). The aroma would make a difference. To me just the smell of coffee makes me feel warm and full; the dark rich fragrance elicits relaxation responses. Right now I smell the fullness of green summer bursting with fruit and seed. What a wonderful bouquet, these scents I am enjoying are of life. But the aroma of coffee would make the moment perfect.

Funny the wind just changed there for a moment and I smelled something caramelizing. Sweet deeply cooked but not burnt it had the smell of boardwalk caramel corn from the vendor at 7th Street in Ocean City New Jersey. Now it is gone. Everywhere I hear tools of lawn work. The edgers and weedwhackers, the mowers and hedge trimmers are a constant drone and then they surge and they return to the steady hum of a Briggs and Straton ½ hours small motor. Whirrrrr and ptptptpt at the lower end of hearing come at me from all sides, east and west, north and south.

The breeze carries the slightest whiff of gasoline and oil. And when the company of conformers is done bringing things into line with unspoken neighborhood norms I will smell new mown grass and rich dirt smells. Why am I not among the busy? Well the air, the humidity and the sun have conspired to give me only the second perfect day of the summer. Do you think I should give up a perfect day just so that someone can think I love my lawn? No sir, not me. I am going to sit out here at this little glass table beneath my market umbrella and write of the joy of watching small golden leaves fall. We don’t get many of these days. The leaf I just watched spiral and turn danced for me and me alone as the bird behind me went cawlll, cawlll.

The dance done will only be done once. The spinning toward earth in erratic but perfectly beautiful choreographed motion is a command performance never to be repeated. Who would expect me to surrender this suite of joyful sensations for the mundane mowing and mulching? Much like Jesus when he said the poor will always be with you, I say the chores both necessary and ephemeral will always be with you.

The wind has changed again and someone appears to have taken on the task of slow cooking meat in a smoker. Ah the joys of idling about on a summer day