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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