Leaves today, gone tomorrow

If seasons teach us anything, and fall most of all, they shows us that life changes, trees and flowers change, and each day is a thing of its own unique beauty. The very beautiful days are the most precious and fleeting gifts, but they’re all gifts, really. Having a front row seat to the changes outside can teach us so much. Fall can show us how to live with intention, even amidst the changing landscape of life.

Last Saturday was beautiful, bursting, alive. The leaves were so colorful and brilliant, shining in the sun. And also, falling. By the moment. I knew the day was a fleeting thing. This type of day- warm, sunny, and colorful, so deep into October- was a gift here. This actual day was a gift. It’s not the kind of thing that you waste.

We had no specific plans except to be outside and participate in some type of fall thing. Anything. We did a Trick Or Treat Trail in the village, which the kids enjoyed. But I needed more. And by “more” I don’t mean more extravagant or adventurous (I mean, hundreds of families, kids, and dogs walking around the mostly closed village streets, gathering candy, climbing on fire trucks and eating powdered-sugar coated donut holes is exciting enough.) I needed more time. And honestly, the simpler the better.

I looked out the window at the backyard. Our trees were standing tall, laden with changing leaves, and it was so spectacular. The golden glow was making its way through our windows and filling up the inside rooms. The leaves were somewhat evenly distributed between trees and ground, with the trees ever so slightly still winning. They felt peak and bursting. There were also enough on the ground to make a fantastic pile for jumping in. I knew right then that we need not go anywhere but our own backyard.

I ushered the kids outside to play, and they happily obliged. I grabbed a rake and started amassing large piles. I didn’t come to work, but I find my hands and head like to be busy. It helps me engage while giving the kids space to explore, and to play. They found ways to enjoy themselves. My daughter diligently picked up the sticks and made a separate pile. My son imaginatively created “a train track” right down the center of one of the piles. He climbed and crawled through it again and again. They found a way to rake too, using sticks to make the leaves move where they wanted. We found a slug with a broken and crushed shell, which they rescued it to a safe spot under the deck, cozy and damp. We found a frog there too. So many simple pleasures.

As we cleaned off the deck and daddy came out and carried the tables and chairs, putting them away in the shed, my son asked me, “Why we putting away?”

“Because winter is coming.”

“But it’s not winter yet.” A pretty sharp observation for someone whose only been alive for a couple of them.

“No, you’re right, it’s not. But it’s coming soon and you just never know exactly when. It could happen anytime, really. That’s why we’re getting ready.”

We cleaned up, put away, and even jumped in the leaf pile a few extra times before we were done. Then we headed inside.

That night, while we sleep, a change in the weather did come. It wasn’t exactly winter. But it was rain and wind. It blowed down more leaves than we had cleaned up the day before. It made a spectacular mess of the deck and ground that we had just cleaned off. The same bursting trees now stood bare, and all of them were thinned out. It was grey, wet and blustery, totally different than yesterday. There would be no outside fun this time, at least not in the same, easy way. Also, one of the kids woke up with the start of a cold. Slight fever, stuffy, not as bright as the day before, either. A definitely different day.

I held out hope for a clearing, but it never came. We were relegated to inside things, with the rain and the cold. There was a brief bright moment while we were driving in the car, which we enjoyed out the window before it was gone. But it quickly passed, before it could become a true outdoor moment, and that was okay. Quieter and less adventurous was today’s gift.

The difference between the two days, and what we did, was noticeable. Both days had unique opportunities, and opposite experiences. Our moods were not overly elevated or dimmed from one extreme to the other, just different expression and engagement. The most obvious change this time was the external. The cold front changed the landscape and the temperature and what the day looked like.

Seeing such a shift just made me think about opportunity, about moment. They’re all so very fleeting. It can feel like one day rolls to the next. Bath time, bedtime, sleep, eat, repeat. Repeat repeat repeat. Meanwhile these kids grow up a little every day. The leaves change a little every day. We know this, in theory. We can forget in the ordinary.

But then a big wind rolls in and things can change dramatically. Overnight, even.

The leaves were here today and gone tomorrow.

Other big, dramatic changes can happen too.

There were two terrible stories from the same weekend of a child lost too soon. Two separate twenty-something’s gone from the world, with no prior notice. Swiftly they left, with no warning, leaving baffled, grieving parents behind. The heartbreak is unimaginable.

Things can change dramatically overnight.

I do not mention this to provoke fear or worry. Those miss the point. Fear and worry are misplaced energy. They’re preparing for something ineffectively. Like raking with a stick and knowing the pile will be blown around tomorrow.

The real thing, the heart of the matter is, do you see and enjoy what’s in front of you? Are you actively grateful and participating in what’s around you TODAY?

Look around your life. Something you see right now might not be here tomorrow. That moment of beauty you see now might not be available tomorrow. That person you’re thinking of is not guaranteed tomorrow. Neither are you. It’s not morbid. It’s reality. There’s no way of knowing when or how something might change quickly. Zero. And there’s no preparing for that.

The only thing logical and actionable and important is to take the opportunities that you have right now. To see, love, participate in, and enjoy the life that is around you. Nothing and no one one is guaranteed to be here forever. Do something with it while it’s here. Make the phone call, go out to breakfast, watch the leaves change, the kids grow.

See what’s right, right there in front of you. Take notice. Gather the leaves in your life, changing and momentary as they are. Enjoy the beauty that’s in your life TODAY. Make a pile of gratitude and jump in.

When things some day change, as they’re guaranteed to do, you’ll know that you enjoyed it while it lasted. That’s all any of us can hope for, that’s all we have in our power. We can’t hold on to what’s temporary and fleeting (leaves, moments, people) but we sure can love the heck out them while they’re here.

So excuse me while I go make a leaf pile of today’s opportunities and jump right in. Hope you can too.