Author’s note: This column originally appeared November 15, 1999.
“You sure got a lotta’ leaves.”
“Yep.”
“I haven’t noticed you doin’ any rakin’”
“Nope.”
“When you gonna’ start?”
“I’m not.”
“You’re not???”
“No.”
“Why?”
“A couple of reasons.”
“Yeah?”
“Well, for one thing, it wears out my rake.”
“And the other?”
“I need ‘em.”
“Need ‘em? For what?”
“To show me what the wind’s doin’.”
“Huh?”
“The wind. I like to watch it.”
“Watch it blow leaves?”
“Not just blow leaves.”
“So what does it do besides blow leaves?
“Lots of things.”
“Like?”
“Like asks them to come out to play.”
“And do they?”
“Some do. Some just lie there.”
“Uh huh. And what do they play?”
“Ring around the rosey. What goes up must come down. Tag. All kinds of games.”
“And you really believe that?”
“Well, not all the time.”
“Good. I was beginning to worry about you.”
“Sometimes they dance.”
“Oh brother.”
“Yeah ... they waltz, cha-cha, fox-trot, jitterbug ...”
“Oh stop!”
“Twist, rock and roll, tango, line dance...”
“Okay, okay, enough.”
“Ballet, tap, hula ...”
“I get your point!”
“And, oh yeah, I almost forgot my personal favorite, polka.”
“Polka dancing leaves?”
“Yep. Just yesterday, a whole crowd of hard maples came dancin’ around the corner, right up the brick street. You shoulda’ seen ‘em. Reminded me of the Idle Hour on a Saturday night. They were all bouncin’ and whirlin’ like Sonny Wosel and his wife, Eda.”
“Okay, that’s enough.”
“Don’t wanna’ hear about the jitterbuggers I saw a couple weeks ago?”
“No.”
“Suit yourself.”
“I do have a question though.”
“Shoot.”
“What about all your leaves that dance over to my yard ... and just lie there?”
“Oh don’t worry about ‘em. They’re not dancin’ ... just playin’.”
“Playin’? Playin’ what?”
“Hide and seek, of course.”
“That’s it. Stop!”
“I haven’t told you about the wind-carved leaf sculptures along the fence and back in the corner by the basement entrance. And the leaves that sing — everything from rattling duets to whole booming operas — as I walk across the yard. And the leaf that, back in 1991, rode all the way to Kansas City on the grill of my station wagon. And… “
“That does it. I’m outta’ here.”
“Hey, don’t leaf mad.”
“Aarrggh.”
J.T. Knoll is a writer, speaker and prevention and wellness coordinator at Pittsburg State University. He also operates Knoll Training, Consulting & Counseling Services in Pittsburg. He can be reached at 231-0499 or jtknoll@swbell.net
PITTSBURG —
