Skip to main content

Run-on Rumination: Autumnal Appreciation

I’ve enjoyed writing for many years. I'm dedicating more time to the craft in my retirement days.

run-on-rumination-autumnal-appreciation

Run-on Rumination: Autumnal Appreciation

I can’t, it seems, confine forever my interests to something manageable, but for now—in the now—I am enamored with this leaf, these leaves, the colors of brown and yellow and brilliant orange and red signifying they are dead but becoming more beautiful and so instead of decaying with no dignity, rotting and melting into the earth as worm dung in obscure and bland silence they go out with a brilliant blast of color, such visible venation, bold beauty so in your face you have to celebrate and not mourn though mourning is around the corner as days become shorter and nights so much longer and mornings feel like they come later in the day waiting on the light to come this way so we can officially say good day. That’s the thing for today, anyway, which doesn’t go a very long way to limiting all the things the mind can see, wants to see, wants to be. It’s time to pull the tomato plants because there will be frost in the next few days. But the plants don’t seem to know that—buds blooming, numbers of green tomatoes zooming into the 100s and more, by the score, they’ll grow and turn no more as they’re tossed into the compost pile for the winter to return next year as fodder for the planting and offering volunteers hiding in the seeds of the rot that becomes of their uprooted whole. The chill on the air and soon the lights of the football field, my breath in the street light visible as I and my dog stroll down the side of the road looking down as a yellow-orange-red maple leaf—venation visible more now than at any time all year, and with tiny brown specks scattered throughout its surface—blows under foot just barely missing my sole while touching my soul with its circle of life that we try to comprehend at summer’s end every year at this time when there is nearly constant susuration of leaves on and off branches, when the climb of the grapevine stops, freezes in place, awaits the spring quietly when it will bud new leaves and new growth to pick up where it left off this year. What's that I hear? Is that a cheer from down the road? The hometown team must have scored, or recovered the ball, or done something otherwise spectacular to best the vying visitors. Come on old girl, let’s keep moving. I think I should have worn a heavier jacket.

run-on-rumination-autumnal-appreciation

© 2021 greg cain

Related Articles