There’s no greater testimony to the spirit of this Universe, than the sounds of little ones—enchanted with the delight of bursting through the newly fallen leaves.

And, my goodness, how wonderful—to have witnessed it from my very own window.

“Ready?!” he shouted. Looking off to the side, I could see the youngest child waiting patiently in his wagon. As the older boys – one push, one pulling – caused a ‘red flyer’ explosion of these castings.

“Again, again!!” the little squealed.

Oh, but my dearest darlings – isn’t there always a ‘waiting space’? Time in which our ‘leaf piles’ must be constructed, once more.

Perhaps, to share that the greatest joy is in the anticipation?

“To be a tree and read the memory of the leaves…”

Indeed, for within each glorious pile, we see—our most cherished childhood memories imprinted upon each leaf.