On Saturday I picked up the Lacrosse-playing babysitter capable of running herd on both Small Boy and Difficult Dog, and Mr. Calhoun and I went out for the evening. We ended up on the grounds of a local retreat center, walking the labyrinth. (You know…like you do on a date night). The labyrinth is outlined in white rock, with dark brown mulch forming the path, and it’s surrounded by cottonwood trees. I love the sound the wind makes in cottonwoods.
Fallen leaves were strewn all over the path, and I started to pick some up as I walked. At first I thought about the leaves I found was, “Dead leaves.” But as I walked I began to notice how different each of these fallen leaves were from the others on the path. The color spectrum was really spectacular.
That’s all the leaves I picked up, but note the difference in just the shades of…oatmeal, is probably the best choice.
These are my favorites:
A wide range of colors and sizes. A writer’s work is formed in the details. I’m saving all these leaves (I keep a paper journal with a pocket at the back for things like ticket stubs, notes, cards people send, and leaves) for the colors, and the memory of another quiet date night.