Tuesday, November 11th, 2008
Of all the many trees on our lot, my favorites are the two maple trees in our side yard. They provide terrific pale green shade in the summer and, best of all, turn bright orange, red and yellow in the fall. This year, their color is even more vivid than usual.
These days, this is the view outside our master bathroom window:
That pic doesn’t do it justice. The orange is so bright – almost neon – that it catches your eye the second you walk in the room, so bright it tints the whole room orange. I wish I could have it there to brighten my day all year.
Outside, the shade under the tree is warm orange now, and the ground is carpeted with color. It reminds me of this secret hideaway among the trees my sister and I had once. (Remember it, in Jasper?) I used to have a romance with shady spots like that. I’d give them flowery names and spin fairy tales about them, just like Anne of Green Gables (not coincidentally, I’m sure, as L.M. Montgomery’s books – and her dreamy heroines – were my favorites). It was just easier to lose myself and pretend in a place surrounded by leaves.
Now, when I look at the maple trees’ leaves, I still get that dreamy feeling. But instead of pretending I’m a fairy princess or dryad, I find myself thinking of the day when I can share this beauty with a little child, who might be seeing autumn leaves for the very first time.
I smile at D, feeling a little teary-eyed all of a sudden, and tell him what I’ve been thinking, and he smiles back, softly. There are more moments like these lately; it’s starting to feel more real for us both that we really will have a child one day soon.
Meanwhile, we are happy as we are, too, with each other and with our four furry children. Though they can’t tell us they’re enjoying the leaves and the weather, we can tell by the way they loll in the sunshine or snuggle with us on the sofa.
Stanley, in particular, is noticeably thriving. Since joining our family, his fur is sleeker and softer, his eyes are bright, and his belly is full. His heartworms are safely gone. He’s less afraid of my camera, he’s barking less in the night (a problem for a neighbors for a while there), he eats like a hog, he wrestles with – and bosses – Millie like they’ve been siblings for years, and he is eager for all the affection we can give him.
Here he is, the little charmer, rolling in the leaves:
How did we live without this guy?