Over the weekend we had what I would consider perfect fall weather. It was cool enough to not be miserably hot, but warm enough not to freeze. It was a little cloudy here and there, and the sky was starting to get that dull winter haze. There was a little bit of green, a little bit of color, and a lot of bare branches. To me this is one of the best parts about Autumn; the days when the slightest breeze makes the leaves fall like a gentle rain, drifting down to the ground as if they have no real place to be. I’ve tried many times to capture it, their twisting and dancing and tumbling in the breeze, but it’s nearly impossible.
What isn’t impossible though is to rake those leaves up and let my children to try recreate it all. My oldest told me quite matter of factly that he had never been able to jump into a pile of leaves before. That isn’t true of course. In fact, on a Sunday afternoon exactly four years ago I decided I couldn't take the depression that came from the onslaught of election coverage, turned off the TV and took the boys outside to play in the leaves. In that moment of watching them play in leaf piles, my youngest still not fully steady on his little feet and my oldest squealing with laughter with every jump, even if only briefly, things seemed to feel infinitely better. But my sweet boy had a bit of a point; four years ago in the life of an eight year old probably did feel like never. So we decided to fix that.
And turns out leaves still have the same power to make the world seem a little lighter.