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For lack of a better term, that's what I'm calling our rain. Because it knocked down every leaf-like structure in the universe. Up until two days ago, we were in that glorious stretch of weather that makes everything seem possible! The sun was shining. The breeze was light. The sky, that perfect October blue that faded into the brilliance of stars I'd forgotten were so present. In a fit of achievement, we moved furniture purchased six months ago. After removing somewhere between ten and three hundred thousand spiders, the cabinet was ready for positioning, and in that moment, all was right with the world. Then, the merest hint of rain arrived, and the lawn-- now returned to a green splendor not seen since June-- became covered with leaves who collectively gave up (quitters!) to land on the ground where they will absorb water until their density is somewhere north of concrete.
You know why people get depressed as the days get shorter? Because they have to rake leaves. No one in their right mind wants to rake wet, heavy leaves. But here we are, and unless I buy a flamethrower, this is my fate. In book news, check my amazon page for some .99 sales this week. I just mailed out a stack of goodies to readers, and will do so next month as well. Watch for the next giveaway! Until the raking is done, I remain, Terry, Leaf Boy.
