There is a reason why we call it 'Fall'

 

          It never fails.

          When you move out of California or just head east for a visit, sooner or later everyone you meet will tell you that how wonderful it is that you get to see the leaves change colors. The seasonal change from summer to autumn is so beautiful, your friends say, that you’ll just love to see it.

          And you have to admit the gradually changing hues are nice to look at while the leaves are still on the trees. As long as you still have to look up to see them, the color swatch switch is swell. Seriously.

          But I’ve seen all that stuff. Saw it as a kid in California, deep in the heart of Southern California; I saw the leaves change colors every year. I also learned the bitter truth behind all the colors, the hidden secret nobody here in the eastern third of the country wants you to know when they brag about the color variations. I’ve known it all along, since I was a small boy.

          It’s the reason fathers want sons, the reason child labor laws should extend to the family home and the only thing about the football season that I don’t like.

          You can sum it up in a word: Raking.

          We had a tree in front of our house when I was a kid and it threw a lot of shade in the summer. But when the fall came, the shade-throwing devices (aka leaves) died and fell on the front yard. Guess who had to rake that mess up? My sister didn’t do any raking, I can tell you that.

          I never understood it. Autumn would come and my mother would turn the corner as we drove home and she would marvel at the picturesque colors of the leaves, the reds and yellows that had once been green. Then a week later, when those same reds and yellows were on top of our nice, green lawn, she wanted the hideous yellows and reds gone, banished to one of our trash cans. They would later be hurled to eternity by the city trash collectors.

          I used to love windy days in the fall. For some reason known only to the God of the Prevailing Winds, any time we had a windy day the leaves on our front lawn would blow somewhere else. I could mow the lawn in complete contentment because there would be no leaves to rake in the yard. There were leaves in the back yard, of course, but nobody saw those leaves. I didn’t care too about those leaves.

          We rented houses for the last 23 years we lived in California and I raked a lot. Pine tree needles, orange tree leaves, plum tree leaves and leaves from an avocado tree that dropped leaves all year long.

          In fairness, the oranges, plums and avocados we took from the trees tasted pretty good. The pine needles? Not so much.

          I guess the point here is that the colors of the fall are nice, but I’d prefer to see those infernal leaves stay in their place: On the branches.

 

          Thanks for reading.