Fall: The Good Parts

I don’t want to believe in Global Warming, but some days make it rather difficult to deny. Friday and Saturday this weekend have projected temperatures of 79. Thanksgiving Day is predicted to be 75. I don’t want it to be freezing, but a little crisp in the air seems more appropriate. Or, rather, it used to be appropriate.

Many years ago, when I was a teen-ager, we’d made a summertime visit to my Dad’s family, who lived in northern Ohio, quite close to the Michigan border. I was trying to explain Texas weather to a couple of cousins.

“Well,”  I said, trying to find a comparable example, “what clothes do you wear on Thanksgiving Day? We’d wear slacks and a shirt and a sweater.”

“That’s what we’d wear,” they said, as though I’d made some sort of ridiculous comparison.

“Outside?” I asked.

“Well, no,” they replied, a little taken aback. “Outside, we’d wear a heavy jacket and probably a hat and scarf.”

“That’s the difference,” I said.

(I’ve checked the Wauseon, Ohio, forecast, and Thanksgiving Day has a predicted high of 52 (low-39). However, on the Sunday and Tuesday before Thanksgiving, snow is predicted. So, sounds like jacket, hat, and scarf weather for those folks.

Last Saturday, the weather was just right. I was going to read for a while, and when I stepped out to get the mail, before settling down, the weather seemed perfect. I could read outside. Well, I did get a sweater. And then I sat down, with my enormous book, on the pew that’s on the porch.

I’ve watched the musical Hamilton several times, being a fan of Mr. Hamilton, and I do realize that Mr. Manuel-Miranda took some creative liberties with the story. Also, I’ve read a couple of novels, recently, about parts of Mr. Hamilton’s life, which contain scenes that I know aren’t exactly accurate. So, I thought I really must read Ron Chernow’s exhaustive biography of Alexander Hamilton that inspired Lin Manuel-Miranda to create the musical.

The day was fabulous, the breeze gentle, the temperature just right. Sometimes there was sun; sometimes, the sky was overcast. Every now and then, a small gust of wind would blow by, scattering the fall leaves along the street. Some of my across-the-street neighbor’s leaves would skitter over into my yard. A few minutes later, a gust would come from the other direction, tossing my leaves over to her yard.

At one point, I heard an amazingly loud ruckus from behind the house, either in our back yard or from the house behind us. Then, suddenly, a group of crows swooped over the house, in a formation that the Air Force Thunderbirds would find impressive. And they were just about as loud as the Thunderbirds. They raced across the street and over those houses, and off to who-knows-where, searching for who-knows-what. And then, several seconds later, one last, late, crow zipped over, too. I bet he got into trouble, late like that.

I spent several hours reading, out there on the porch. I read and read and read. I must admit that I skimmed over, quite a bit, the Federalist Papers part. Mr. Chernow described the contents of every single one of them; there are 85. If you’re interested, you can read all 85 of them here. Or, you can check out, from your local library, a copy of Mr. Chernow’s book, and get his synopsis of each one.

I’ve still got quite a ways to go. Library books are checked out for three weeks. I can renew a book twice, as long as no one has put in a request for it. The library has a few copies. So, I can have as much as nine weeks to finish a book. I believe, this time, I’ll have to turn it in, and then check it out again, later, for another round.

This is what my front yard looks like, now. Several homes on our street use the same lawn service. I told them, last week, that I thought I was done with them until next spring. The first year I said that, they said, “But you’ll have leaves that the mowers will shred up for you each week.” And I said, “I like to rake.” Which is true. Plus, I use those leaves for compost. But, also, I’m a senior adult woman who needs to stay active, and raking is perfect.

So, the across-the-street neighbor’s yard is all nice and neat, because the yard guys have come. Last Saturday, my yard was a carpet of leaves from the red oak tree. I raked up a couple of trash bags worth of leaves, much of which will go into our green bins, which get recycled with other yard waste. And, though you can’t see it, this tree still has lots of green leaves left on it. I’ll be raking for many more weeks.

Maybe that’s what those crows were cawing about.

The bookmark in the book is my favorite one. It has a Groucho Marx quote:

“Outside of a dog, a book is man’s best friend. Inside of a dog, it’s too dark to read.”