FALL BURN – GRATITUDE

I shuffle through ankle-deep crisp and crunch. All these leaves are sepia beautiful; they vary only in their shape. Pin oak, cottonwood, ash, and elm. But below this maple, a blanket of gold lays full-circle ‘round her graceful trunk. Twenty-five years I’ve watched her undress and dress, but the fascination never fades.

A few cut-offs from the new construction project mingle with yard tinder for this early morning fire. Match lighted before the break of day, hoping to be done before the winds come with the mid-morning sun. Bunches of low clouds already romping across the sky, south to north.

I rake a rogue torch back into the fire. Too many dry leaves poised to catch and fly.

My own forecast of a long winter compels me to capture video of these gentle flames and soft vertical smoke. I’ll replay it on repeat some dark cold day as I squeeze out pen lines on paper.

A golden lab watches from his deck rail across the way. A wisp of smoke makes me sneeze. He barks. Next sneeze is a fake teaser; he barks again. I belly laugh at our joke. We, and only we two, share this peaceful morn. And we are enough.

I am grateful.

Thank you Father.

Mid-burn, she emerges, black eyes first, locked on my face as she approaches, one bold step after another, toward me and my rake. Black nose, black eyes, and black rim along the top of her ears. Ears forward like radar on me.

I smile and offer a low “Good morning.” She comes without hesitation. We know one another. We’ve done this before. It’s a territorial conversation. This acre I paid for is hers too. We share its peace and provision. She dropped her fawn in this meadow last Spring. I carry fresh water to their trough so they stay clear of my hosta. They don’t. We share green beans over my protest. I don’t shoo her or her tribe. They are a welcomed joy anytime.

When she comes as close as she needs to, she stops. No stomp this morning. We freeze like the game played by children. Like the ‘who can stare the longest’ challenge played with my cat. No threat in mind or heart; just a display of will and honor.

Too soon she’s distracted by the neighborhood tom cat to her left. A good excuse to turn and nibble breakfast grass somewhere else. My fire is almost finished. She’ll be back another day.

Joy. Deep joy.

A couple crows caw. Distant train horn and feint rumble. Neighbor’s wind chime warns me this moment, like a song, ends. I poor water on the embers and they sizzle in protest. Can’t let this one die its natural death. Too much beauty to lose.