
Fall is probably my favorite season. The beauty all around with leaves changing colors on various trees with the different shades. As I was driving to work the other day, there was this one tree, it was so bright and bursting with red and yellow leaves. I was so in awe that I remember saying that it was the prettiest tree ever. Further down the road almost to work, I look over and see another tree and I say again, that is the prettiest tree ever. I laughed at myself because of this pattern that would, of course, continue. Trees are wonderful to admire and get lost in not only the beauty but pleasant thoughts that provide a break of tasks ahead or problems or issues in our lives.

My husband dislikes leaves on the grass. One tree is always late losing its leaves and I swear, he’d be happy to shake the daylights out of it to finish and be done before winter. Maybe it is me that needs to shake it (or him), to stop listening to his moans of frustration.
I found myself yesterday when arriving home from work, looking over and staring at our neighbors’s maple tree. The golden orange was so vivid as the sun was on the tree and the leaves on the ground, like a reflection. Just so pretty. Knowing full well that all these pretty leaves will need to be raked and bagged. It’s a chore but it’s a fun chore.
Growing up in the house we live in, our one-acre lot behind us is plentiful with trees, which brings a lot of leaves. My favorite memory of the back yard is when it was completely covered with the golden yellow leaves, as in our neighbor’s yard. I like to enjoy this sight for at least a few days, looking out of my kitchen window, but it never happens nowadays. I am so glad I took in that sight to remember when I did, years ago.

The leaves also tend to make it inside the house, tracked in on the shoes or perhaps fly in when the door is open. A leaf here a leaf there, no problem. It is when this leaf is just overlooked and just sits there. He has no thought of picking it up and throw outside or in the garbage. Now I am starting to dislike the leaves, as I pick it up and throw out, only to repeat often. Frustration begins to be felt within me wondering why he cannot wipe his shoes or if tracked in the house, to pick up the leaf (leaves) and do the same as me. How is this so hard? The old saying, ‘were you raised in a barn’ comes to mind.
The funny thing is, as I am babbling on with my counselor the other day of my frustration over this silly leaf and of my situation at home between him and I, she smiles and states, ‘it is not about the leaf.’ We both laughed, as she was so correct. In that moment, a blog was born.
He is a happy man with himself and not a care in the world. No desire to change but continue the same routine day after day, year after year. I will yet again hear about the tree losing its leaves late. I will continue to see green grass while I admire my neighbor’s yard with the bright leaves. Yes, it is a good thing to mulch them but just let me enjoy the beauty for a few days.
I will again and again pick up a leaf here and there in my house that was tracked in and ignored. It is not about the leaf but only my frustration with him. Let it go! It’s a losing battle.

