Thus begins an epic three part saga on why my floor never seems to stay clean. This first part deals with the seasonal enema that is Fall.
Part One: Where Walt Whitman Can Shove His Leaves of Grass
I like fall.
As a concept.
As a reality fall is messy. Fall is wet. Fall is damp. Fall sees wet leaves enter into my domicile and unless I’m fast enough and smart enough to find them all they dry out and emerge from their hiding place to crackle themselves all over the floor making a hellova mess and requiring constant sweeping.
I curse you leaves (though since you’ve already fallen from YOUR home and entered in to MY home and are breaking apart on MY floor – what curse could I put upon you that would be worse than your current fate?)
Fall. Think about it. It’s the season of Death. Everything born in the spring and living the high life in summer is now in the process of dying, or trying to hide itself under the earth in the hopes that it can last through the winter.
Those leaves falling slowly and beatifically to the ground are not picturesque. They are dead things cast to the ground because the tree they were on is now trying to protect itself from the winter that comes.
Yeah you’re beautiful fall. But you’re the season of DEATH. I would spit on your children if you had any (would they be called Fallings? Fells? Fallens? Fallen ones?) But you don’t have any – because spring has children – FALL KILLS.
Sure these falling leaves can teach us things if we look close enough:
1) Beauty in death
2) Intransigence of beauty
3) Fall is evil
4) Rain is wet
5) A lot of rain is really wet.
6) Rain + insufficient drainage = flood
But right now I prefer not to look for any of the above deep seated themes because it’s too hard to watch all those leaves that I’ve come to know over the summer dying, sometimes violently, sometimes peacefully.
Good bye Leif Leaf, Lucy Leaf, Lucky Leaf (who incidentally was NOT so lucky), Lefty Leaf, Llew Leaf, Bob Leaf, Llewellen Leaf, Laura Leaf, Lori Leaf and the rest of the Leaf family. I look forward to seeing your children in SPRING (cause that’s the season of birth).
Tomorrow: Part 2: Cats.