Yellow

I actually scribbled this in mid-October, but never had a moment to post. Just a little vignette of autumn in NJ.

Recently, I was pushing one of my nephews on a swing. At one point, he tossed his head back - the way kids do on swings - to watch the sky slide by, back and forth. His eyes caught the tops of the tall trees that separate grandma’s yard from the neighboring farm, where the corn stalks stood softly, dried-out and ready to be cut down.

“I see colors,” he shouted excitedly. I looked up and, sure enough, the tippy-tops of the trees were turning. It was as if a painter’s brush had gently dabbed the edges of the trees with new colors to cover the summer green.

“What colors do you see?” I asked. A chorus of voices erupted as the other nephews and nieces (who I didn’t even know were paying us any attention) chimed in: “I see red!” “I see orange!” “I see green!” “I see yellow!”

The swinging boy replied, “I don’t see any yellow! Where do you see yellow?”

Later, on the driveway, we started taking inventory of the fallen leaves, sorting them by colors as you sometimes do with a bag of M&Ms.

“See? There’s yellow,” one instructed the other. And of course, everyone had to agree there was indeed yellow in the mix.

Today it’s raining leaves outside. It is a miracle of beauty that I cannot imagine living without.