Thursday, November 13, 2014

Beauty or Coincidence?





I have a friend, younger than me. She made some flowers out of tree leaves. Somehow she spiraled the leaves together, putting them into a vase. She said that I could do it.

I begged off with an excuse of laziness, or something.

Then, yesterday, I needed to go the store and get a few things for supper. I took the long way – walking by way of Veteran’s Park near the high school. I crossed over 19th street and was heading down 20th when I saw the most amazing tree. It was almost entirely bright yellow, holding on to nearly all of its leaves. Of course, I believe in coincidences – they happen. My friend lives just a half block to the north on Vermont and I thought to myself, maybe I could make a leaf flower.

I began picking leaves. Their stems let go with a slight tug. I kept the stems together, leaves flat together like the pages of a book. I began with yellow, then I saw some leaves just turning red, and then, I saw some with bright green still in them. It was the yellow that made the green seem so bright, I think.

I carried my sheaf of leaves with me, carefully holding them together. I cradled some cans of pineapple and also a dozen eggs in one arm as I wandered through the aisles at Dillons, shifting things around carefully so I could get to my wallet to pay.

I sat for a moment on a ledge outside, watching the people come and go. Then I headed home with my bag in one hand, the leaves in the other. A neighbor waved at me from their house a block from my house and I crossed the street. She and her daughters were reading on a blanket on the grass. I saw colored leaves printed on the open pages of a picture book. The mother said that a cold front was coming. It was indeed quite warm for November. I showed them my leaves and then continued toward home. It was time to get supper started.

Then, just before I got to our house, another neighbor was coming towards me on the sidewalk, kicking though the leaves with her two daughters and her two dogs. We stopped and I explained that I was going to try to make a flower with the leaves in my hand.

One daughter told me that then I was going to give it to my wife because I love her. Well, she would know.

I set my bag in the kitchen and did the flower first. A wine glass wasn’t quite right, the mouth too big. I found a narrow-stemmed juice bottle in the stairwell with the vases, the top opening  about the size of a penny. I stuck the stems of the leaves into the opening as I sat at the dining room table. I tried to swirl the leaves. Then I pulled them carefully back out, sticking back into the bottle a few leaves at a time – yellow in the center, a splash of the red, and the green around the outside.

It wasn’t as tightly spiraled as my friend’s flowers were, but it had a nice shape and I was pleased with how the colors came out. It was pretty enough for a picture and then the dining room table.

If you are wondering, I made sweet and sour pork, and I have to tell you that I used three farmer’s market bell peppers – one green, one red, and one in between green and red. The pineapple - from the can - was, was of course, bright yellow. Sweet and sour I had planned on.

My wife - who I love, as my very young friend reminded me - came home from work. I had heard the wind rising strongly from inside the house and I stepped out onto the front porch as Dawn was just getting out of a friend’s car. She pointed up at the leaves swirling in the air as she walked towards me. I saw them swirling against a graying sky.

I finished up in the kitchen and we sat at the table with the leaf flower and began eating at three minutes before six.

Why would I tell you all this? Surely the numbers and the colors don’t mean anything. There’s a coincidence here and there. And there are more beautiful leaves in the world than I have time to count. The leaf flower won’t last long.

Even the friends and neighbors are somewhat coincidental, too, although intention should be counted. And what if I had walked faster or slower? What if I had not rested, watching for a few minutes? What if all these amazing people had not wanted to talk with me? I did not make the elements of this story or order their occurrence by more than leaf or two. The afternoon mostly just happened as afternoons sometimes do.

I can still hear the north wind outside my window tonight – expected to be more than thirty degrees colder tomorrow for the high. Yesterday, I did something because I friend told me I could. I had some colors and a number of friends to work with. The initial question is yours.




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