For leaves, fall this year was particularly beautiful. I’m not quite sure how to write about leaves; I’m not that much of a nature guy, and I haven’t thought about it much before. The colors were particularly intense, and the sky was soft enough to let them glow, and the weather was mild enough not to blow all the leaves off right away. One day we drove past an orange tree (not an orange tree), and Sweet Potato said wow! ... I was talking with a Burmese man who’s learning English. He said, autumn. I said, yes this is autumn. He said, beautiful. ... In the car you notice that the leaves are a little different in different places, maybe because someplace gets more sun or a wetter breeze or something, who knows, but you notice it along I-77 or near the zoo. And you notice that it changes noticably, over a couple of days; leaf peak is quicker than I had thought; its contour passes over the landscape like a slow wave.
Sweet Potato’s been collecting natural objects all fall: rocks, sticks, leaves, berries. Acorns. The back seat of our car makes me think of a raccoon’s nest.
Beeb the Mom’s been quiet and steady and her mellow beauty seems to be growing richer. She knits and we watch movies and read books we check out from the library.
I’m busy with work and sometimes when I'm by myself I wonder if I'm acting like a dick. I guess I could ask around.
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