Togo Goes on Leaf

I don’t know how things are going where you live, but in West Texas, with the recent cold and some breath-taking winds, we are in to leaf season.

Some people call leaf season “autumn.” But it wasn’t until almost 1700 that people in England got all fancy with their seasonal nouns. Before that, people just called the third season of the year “fall.” I would love to tell you a quirky story about why the word “fall” was chosen. You know, like something tied to the demise of a great empire.¹

But it really is simply because leaves fall from the branches of trees at this time of year. At least in the northern hemisphere.

I like leaves. I like them on trees and on the ground. Momma says that people are known to take long trips to see the leaves change colors in other parts of the country. I just take a few days off and tour our neighborhood.

Did you know that leaves symbolize growth and rebirth? Even those that fall signal a hope for a newness next spring season.

The world is actually more friendly when leaves are on the ground. When I go for my walks, nothing is more comforting than a carpet of leaves. Sometimes they crunch between my toes or squiggle up quietly so I can go in stealth mode.

Leaves are everywhere. Daddy says that most of the leaves in the world end up in our backyard. I count that as a huge blessing. He mutters something under his breath when he says this that I can’t quite make out. I’m sure that it must be a prayer of thanks because Daddy then spends a lot of time rearranging leaves in our backyard.

Oddly, after all that work, in an inexplicable act of foolishness, he hauls them away. So much effort, wasted. The leaves leave too soon.

I’ve become wise to Daddy’s foolishness in recent years. That’s why I go on guard duty and protect the leaves as a beautiful expression of life. Not to mention the fact that leaf piles are unrivaled fun on a cool, crisp day.

Even when leaves are scarce, we can always dream of winter, spring, and summer — and a glorious return of the leaves.

1. “Autumn” has a bit more complex meaning. Daddy insists that he is in the autumn of his life. I fact-check everything and I’m not so sure. Autumn means “a time of full maturity” and that’s not how I would describe Daddy. Although autumn can also mean “the early stage of decline,” so Daddy may be on to something.