Of Leaves

I think that one of the best things about winter is walking through the leaves. Those crunchy leaves. For some reason that's just a pleasant feeling for me. Can't really explain it. Since childhood in south Louisiana, I've always looked forward to the falling of the leaves. Other places have snow and ice. Down there we did the best we could with the piles and piles of leaves. I tell ya, no one could make a better Leaf Snowman than we could back then. I guess in an area where no one knows what snow looks like, you have to make due with what you have.

That's apparently translated over to something like nostalgia as I've gotten older. And what's crazy is that even now, years later, crunching through leaves on a winter day has consistently been the thing that I look forward to each year. Even more than Christmas (ya know that holiday that starts before Thanksgiving?).

I could probably come up with some pseudo-philosophical guess as to why mere dead leaves affect me this way. Something about the representation between the getting rid of the things that weigh me down each year and the potential of the coming years to make something better of myself. I think that last sentence might have been it. At least for now...