Leaves, and temps, are dropping (sigh)

By Marge Feuerstein | Manor Ink Mentor

As I glanced out of my kitchen window this morning, I saw the leaves falling from the large maple tree across my lawn. Now yellow and brown, they slowly fluttered down until a gust of wind sent a shower down to the grass.

I’m sorry, I said to the tree. Sorry you have lost your beautiful foliage and now must face the winter, naked. But then I realized this was probably its protection. The tree was doing something like a bear or a woodchuck does when it hibernates. With no leaves to feed, the tree slows down, just like the bear does, and slumbers until it is time to wake up again in the spring.

Would that we humans could do that! To snuggle down in bed, under a cozy quilt and snooze until the sounds of spring awaken us. Unfortunately, like the deer and birds and critters of all kinds who stay active through our long winter, we must get up, go out and endure.

Truth be told, as I approach my ninety-first birthday, I dislike the cold even more than when I was young. No one throws snowballs at me anymore, like they did when I walked back and forth to elementary school. But cold seems to penetrate the body as we grow older. Long-johns become a staple, and as little time as possible is spent outdoors. When the weather is mild, I spend as much time as possible outside. I tend my flowers, cut the grass on my trusty John Deere, or sit and read on the deck. But when the winter winds blow, I’m indoors, under a warm blanket near the fireplace with a good book in hand. Never a skier or a snowshoer, my winter outings are just to feed the birds, the deer and anything else who needs food and swipes it.

I am grateful to all the creatures who, like me, cannot sleep through the winter but must hunt for food to keep them alive in the cold. I am grateful they are here for they bring life and beauty and often a chuckle on those dreary days. A fair exchange, in my view. Food in exchange for company and entertainment.