It’s 8PM and 62 degrees in late October, and I’m in my front yard, because I forgot to bring the trash cans up after trash pickup today.
My neighborhood is 3/4 of a century old, and the tall pines and live oaks and southern magnolias that fill our neighborhood mean that it’s mostly green year round. They reach for the sky, these trees do, and hold you, letting you know that you are protected, safe, loved.
I understand that there are people who live where there are not trees. It’s important to learn early in life that not everyone has the advantages you do.
As I was standing on the edge of the road in my quiet, verdant street, I looked up toward the sky and just felt gratitude. I love it here, and wouldn’t care to live anywhere else.
We are blessed (and cursed) by 9 mature willow oak trees on our property. They are prolific leaf droppers, just at the peak of their annual leaf shedding. Last year I gathered near 48 bushels of leaves. I compost them at the edge of the pine woods at the perimeter of our small acreage.