Because I’ve been walking the dog a lot lately, I’ve spent more time than usual wandering the neighborhood, and I’ve really been getting a kick out of the leaves.
Before moving to Queens, I spent 10 years combined in Brooklyn and Manhattan, and the neighborhoods I lived in weren’t nearly as tree-lined as the one I live in now. And maybe I’m just noticing it more or maybe it’s just this Fall in particular, but there has been an abundance of those brown, crunch leaves on the grass and street,Because I’ve been walking the dog a lot lately, I’ve spent more time than usual wandering the neighborhood, and I’ve really been getting a kick out of the leaves.
Before moving to Queens, I spent 10 years combined in Brooklyn and Manhattan, and the neighborhoods I lived in weren’t nearly as tree-lined as the one I live in now. And maybe I’m just noticing it more or maybe it’s just this Fall in particular, but there has been an abundance of those brown, crunch leaves on the grass and street, those scattering of leaves that reminds me of being a kid, stomping through leaf piles.
I’m usually not all that nostalgic–I tend to look foward, rather than back–but there’s been some kind of magic in the air this year for me in regard to the leaves. Just this reminder that something as simple as fallen leaves, as the sound of the crunch beneath my feet, can bring such joy, no matter what else is going on. Maybe it’s just one of those "stop and smell the roses" moments for me, but it’s been a smile nonetheless.
There’s a lot more I could say about this, and maybe one day I will, but for now, it’s enough for me just to remember that the joys in life can come from anywhere, and that a pile of brown crunchy leaves is worth more to me than I can put a price on. It’s the moments I can’t buy that are worth more than the ones I can.
