It's raining leaves

It’s raining leaves today. Leaves are falling wherever I look, like big raindrops. With each leaf that falls, my cabin gains a bit of sunlight, a bit of open sky. At night another few stars are visible. In daylight, I see blue sky and clouds again, if not yet enough of either to gauge the weather without going to the end of the lane.

Driving is dangerous again; the deer are in rut. I see them standing by the sides of the roads and bouncing across the roads. I hear gunshots again as the sounds of hunters echo across the mountain. It’s muzzleloader season this week, and those guns are loud. They always sound as though they are close enough to be in my neighbor’s back yard, but they aren’t. So far Maude and Mergatroyd are still here.

Resistance is futile as I attempt to keep leaves off my front and back decks. By the time I broom them off the deck, the just-broomed area is already coated with them again. At this point, my brooming is simply to keep them from becoming shin-deep. A deck actually cleared of them will still be weeks away, and by then I might be attempting to keep snow off the decks. If snow falls before the decks are cleared of leaves, the decks become skating rinks.

Raccoons are foraging again, attacking my bird feeders in the middle of the night. Actually, I could easily put up with raccoons in the bird feeders and would happily sleep through their emptying of them. But Baby Dog can’t let it go. She howls with indignation and fury, until I am forced to get up, stumble to the door and chase off the intruders. Tonight, I must remember to bring the bird feeders inside before bed, a routine I haven’t had to perform for half a year. I am relearning how to do autumn, again. Apparently, this is knowledge that disappears sometime over the course of 365 days. Every year I remember again, but too late to avoid being awakened at least once by her frantic barking.

No longer is fall merely a hint among the last days of summer. It is here now, in full force, with all the sights, smells and sounds of the season. It’s time to sweep the decks again.