I just
had to share this picture with you. I know, the cell phone camera doesn’t ever
quite show it in half the splendor of viewing it in real life, but when you
stand at this second story picture window and look into the heart of this tree
with the sunlight shining through, you feel as though you’ve fallen face-first
into that legendary pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. It’s hard to find
words to describe the breath-taking exhilaration of being surrounded by such
radiant beauty.
And when
you walk through the local park, it looks as though that pot of gold has burst
all over the grassy slopes and meadows.
My
Grandmother once called it the “Spices of Autumn”. She was referring to that
tangy aroma that emanates from the forest only this one crispy time of the
year. It’s a culmination of berries and leaves reaching their ripest state and
returning to the earth for the year. It’s an aroma I remember very well.
It was
always there on thanksgiving weekends on the farm many, many years ago. The
forest would be rich with it as the we played in huge piles of leaves that had
been kindly raked up for us under the old swing. We’d swing as high as our
furiously pumping little legs would take us, then, at a chosen moment, we’d
release the swing and sail through the air, for one moment as free as the wild
geese crossing the sky high above us. The we’d land with a glorious, crispy “smunch!”
in the mounds of gold and yellow and red beneath us. Eventually, we’d have to
help bundle all the leaves up and pile them into the back of the truck to be
driven out to the field. By this time, the harvest was already in and the
fields were all acres of black, freshly tilled soil with, perhaps, some stubble
remaining. Sitting in the back of the truck, we’d be driven up and down the
field, throwing great armloads of leaves out to the winds, to be carried away
in great orangy-gold ribbons behind us. We were told they would decay, out
there, turn into fertilizer, and make the soil all that much richer for next
year’s crop.
Here, we’ve
stumbled upon a great debate. Why DO we rake up the leaves off our lawn, each
year, and is it really necessary? They look so beautiful out there, and they’re
wonderful fun for the kids. Plus they eventually turn into mulch and enrich the
soil. It seems kind of ridiculous to see this completely biodegradable material
wrapped up in utterly non-biodegradable plastic bags to be taken to sit in a
landfill for thousands of years, when they could be beautifully decorating our
neighborhoods for a little while, then helping Mother Nature to remain her
healthiest and most vibrant.
After all,
no one rakes the forest, do they? And it exists just fine for years, decades,
or even centuries, with all those leaves lying around. In point of fact, even
basic research suggests that the leaves, twigs, and other forest debris that
accumulate there are tremendously important. The forest floor is known for it’s
rich biodiversity, and I haven’t heard anyone suggest that it’s even remotely
possible for us to completely understand all that goes on down there, all that
lives among that debris, and how each relates and interacts with all the others.
Some have even suggested that anyone trying to “clean up” the leaf debris might
do considerable damage to the forest ecosystem.
The
leaves fall of the trees for a reason. Mother Nature planned it that way. So we
do we interfere and rake them all up and chase them away. Well, there may be an
understandable reason, actually, at least as far as our lawns are concerned.
Left to their own devices they will mulch and decay under the snow and,
possibly, create a bit of an unsightly mess in the spring. It’s easy to see why
people wouldn’t want that near where they live.
Some
suggestions have been made. One is to mow the leaves to shreds and leave the
shreds where they lay to enrich the soil without making a mess. Another idea
could be to sprinkle them over your garden to mulch and provide you with a much
richer vegetable patch next spring.
Either
way, the next time you step out in the park, or the woods and get a whiff of
those delicious autumn spices, remember that it’s the aroma of one of Mother
Nature’s most vital processes. Then, take a moment to drink it in perhaps just
a little deeper than maybe you once would have.
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