Winter over

The walk was wet, the ground spongey. The leaves on the trees looking desperate, red or gold. He saw himself in those leaves and how they hung on. He sat on a dry rock beneath the trees on the lakeshore looking for water fowl or eagles. That fishing lure caught in the arthritic-looking tree had been there for years. And he often wondered what it would feel like to come here after they moved out. He’d pine for these days and remember what he could but it would all be a wash, a passing scent.

He came back and hung his hat, topped his coffee, sank into his chair. Saturday. He imagined frames from future scenes before completing the one he was in. He could winterize the pressure washer or blow some leaves. Or drift around and do nothing. Hang and quiver like one of those leaves. Fall was a time of reckoning before the stillness of winter, the rebirth of spring. Fall was a time to make sense of things. To harvest what you could from the earth and then go there yourself. Crawl beneath a shrub and disappear.

He didn’t know what to do next. Something in the kitchen or the garage. He went to the window to look out back and see if the windmill had turned. Every day was like this.

Categories: prose, writing

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13 replies

  1. This is oddly enticing … I’d welcome hanging and quivering like an autumn leaf, letting the breeze determine my longevity. Instead, I’m human, cursed with expectations of self-preservation, against Nature’s logical progressions … expected by other humans to stick around indefinitely …
    Those leaves don’t fight it.
    (Great post – thanks for spinning my perspective.)

    Liked by 1 person

    • So much fun playing the personification game! Thanks for joining in Jazz. Hope your fall is cozy. Do you do autumn sweaters down there? I’d miss that. Nothing like nice wool. The soft, non-scratchy kind…

      Liked by 1 person

      • I own no wool anymore, preferring washable fabrics – do love snuggling into my down vest (claims to be washable, but I just sponge off smears). Texas just had our first autumn cool front – I have the back door wide open for dogs to move in/out as they choose as there’s no need (finally!) for the AC! NOT cold enough yet for furnace. (On our trip a couple weeks back into NM we had a couple of mornings below freezing … vest weather! I look forward to that here within the month.)

        Liked by 1 person

      • That’s great to say goodbye to the AC and open those doors wide open! Amen to that, and to some coming frost for y’all…

        Liked by 1 person

  2. Just assembled an Ikea crib. Beat that for subtext!

    Liked by 1 person

    • Pregnant with meaning. What are you doing back here, anyhow? I mean it’s nice but I’m wondering. I’m trying to go back to the beginning of time on my blog but man it’s a slog. I’m in 2013 and it appears that’s where we connected. You were so kind and encouraging. Still are! Congratulations I think?!


      • Blog slog. That’s why I paused. Felt bogged.
        I’m back because I enjoy your work, man! Always have. That doesn’t end because I’m not posting. Summer was full of preoccupations that kept me away. I’ll message you.


      • It’s funny to go back and witness when you first started sharing my stuff, meant a lot then and still does.

        Liked by 1 person

  3. I love this tune ‘he said’.
    Yeah, I’m with Jazz on this.

    Thank you Bill.
    PS: we are doing a collective Senior’s morning tea today, via Teams (because of lockdown).
    If you hear groaning in the ether, it’ll be because this experiment got too quiet and I decided to sing Autumn Leaves to add colour.
    Oh oh, here I go:
    The falling leaves drift by the window, The autumn leaves of red and gold …

    Liked by 1 person

  4. So many memories of spongy ground, the scent of leaves returning to earth, chill crispness upon the autumn breeze. Tis my favorite season!

    Liked by 1 person

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