On the Jazz Show today, I heard a song that is quite in tune with the season. It’s the Lullaby of the Leaves by the Buddy Tate Quartet. And this is good timing, as I wanted to write a little something about leaves…
How far we have come to this fall.
We have grown ever since the end of last year’s freeze.
Starting from the buds that came with the beginning of baseball.
As we sprouted, it put shade-seekers at ease.
In all different sizes we have come,
Large and small, netted and other patterns within,
A botanist’s dream are we as they hum,
And collectors will preserve us in their bins.
The time is now, we must detach,
The trees have been good, but we cannot stand still,
The chlorophyll flees and the bark calls a match,
Flying freely wherever the wind says we will.
Our last descent, and we hope that they will remember,
What they were missing during our peak season,
It is all bleak and grey in December,
And awaiting renewal — the cycle has reason.
But before it is all done, memories abound,
From cyclists trying to catch us in flight,
To kids raking and jumping around.
The colors and beauty–that’s our might!
I am but one of many of the leaves that fly by,
But I can say that I had the most enjoyable descent.
This cyclist’s hand sang the most impressive lullaby.
And I drifted sweetly to his open arms–palm, I meant,
Caressing serenely into that handy contour,
It holds me for just a moment.
The cyclist yells in excitement for his first capture,
But can’t keep me as I drift toward the pavement.
Today is the three hundred and second day of M.M.X.I.V. That makes forty-three weeks and one day.
Today is the twenty-ninth day of the third round of O.C.T.O.B.E.R. That makes four weeks and one day.