Before the leaves are gone
Another month has begun. The school board year, which differs from the school year because we do work during the summer months, is already 25% over. We’re on the edge of changing seasons, and when I take the dog out before sunrise, neither of us want to spend much time on the wet grass in our bare feet. The dog’s a softie, I know. Because I leave for work before true sunrise, I’m aware of the changing light. And, of course, the changing trees.
Our lawn is still green, but the linden tree has taken on a lovely shade of yellow, and many leaves have already fallen. The red maple next door is still unchanged. All of the trees around here were planted about twenty years ago, and are finally mature. Not full-grown, but we have real trees, instead of the saplings strapped to iron posts from the early days.
The birch down by Fred’s place is gone. The hedge next door and around the corner, planted by Jean, is already up about six metres. Good, healthy cedars. Unfortunately, the birch tree and the mountain ash on the corner seem to have lost their strength, and I wonder if there’ll be leaves and red berries next summer. I pass these trees twice a day, five days a week. I notice.
Between the corner and the pedestrian path over to the next neighbourhood, there is little to mention. A lot of maple trees. Very little in the way of fir or spruce; probably the lawn companies weren’t giving much recommendation to either when they were drawing up contracts when this neighbourhood was building and greening up. Some lovely flower beds, though.
Along the walkway, there are solid cedar hedges on one side, and some sort of ivy has taken over the fence. A very rich crimson colour right now; reminiscent of draperies in an old house. As we make the turn onto the next residential street, there is an odd sort of maple that won’t shed its leaves until halfway through the winter. The rare oak trees are starting to change colour, and the two crabapple trees in the area are pitching apples down. I wonder who eats them? I learned my lesson when I was young.
There are a couple of maples that have obviously met the hand of a grafter. Bright green on one branch, and something variegated on another. Much like a young girl who went crazy at the hair salon. The leaves all fall at the same time, though. Finally, my bus stop is in the shadow of a huge blue spruce that has peas growing up at its base. Odd combination.
There we are, the bus is right on schedule. I’ve walked my six hundred and fifty metres in less than five minutes, and my bus ride will last about forty-five minutes. I won’t be counting the trees along the way.
