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Falling leaves

Thanks, Vermont tree leaves, for not being affected by the warming of the globe looks like this will be a brilliant year for you. Leaves, youve worked so very hard and done so many things all summer long. Youve been steadfast, benevolent, and green as envy, since late spring. Youve whistled in the wind, shaded us from the sun, helped spew oxygen into our lungs, and just recently turned all the colors in the rainbow, and looked damn good doing it all. Thanks. One day I saw a barn cat sitting in the craw of a maple tree nibbling on one of you. On behalf of bugs and birds and animals of all kinds, and extreme health food eaters, I extend to you leaves, thanks, for tasting good. When calling on nature, over the river and through the woods, on foot, bike, or motorized cycle of some sort, nature sometimes calls, and we reach out to you. Thanks. Thanks for shielding so many of us from the sight of each other. What did Robert Frost say, something to the effect of Strong fences make good neighbors? I say, A thick wall of leaves makes really good neighbors. Do kids and adults alike still sometimes iron you between two pieces of wax paper and give you as gifts? Id like to think so. Whats the family Bible without a wax leaf bookmark? Ordinary. Cheers to you and I guess a thank-you are in order for your ability to match every existing thing. My entire life Ive not seen a woods, mountain side, or cityscape to which you clash. I feel theres not a color you carry that doesnt go fabulously well with the white of a northern Vermont white birch. Benjamin Moore, eat you heart out. Thanks for trying to show me, year after year, in your own way, the path my life is taking. Bud, sprout, mature, age, wither and fall and land dead, and mix into the soil to become fertilizer for your replacement. Thats me baby, thats me too. You softly help me understand, if Im paying attention at all, that Im no more important than the smallest one of you. Lucky for me and my ego, you are very important. Rain falls, snow falls, leaves fall. Rain falls on us and we get wet. Snow falls on us and when its melted, we are wet. I cant recall a time in the fall, or any season, when a leaf has fallen on me. Tomorrow Im going to walk in the woods to the center of an old sugar bush and stand still, until, I feel leaves falling on me, and I wont leave until a leaf falls on me and stays on me, and then Ill leave and try and walk steady so that the leaf doesnt fall the rest of the way to the ground, and if I make it all the way home with the leaf on me, Im going to iron it between two pieces of wax paper and give it to my friend Pete and call it, The leaf I saved for Pete to peep. Leaves, you are beautiful, but you are some shrewd veiny business-minded sons a guns, too, you are. By just being yourself you cause a helluva ruckus every fall, but you earn us one helluva lot of money. I never really thought of it leaves, but, hey youre a bunch of Republicans arent you? So, its bye, bye til next year leaves. Thanks. I feel that youre a gazillion badillion things that we for the most part not counting three weeks during the fall take for granted, at least to the point in which we dont write and praise you nearly enough. Rusty DeWees tours Vermont and Northern New York with his act The Logger. His column appears weekly. He can be reached at rustyd@pshift.com. Listen for The Logger, Rusty DeWees, Thursdays at 7:40 on the Big Station, 98.9 WOKO or visit his website at www.thelogger.com

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