Sounds dreadful when I write it. Too much like tax returns. But I’m thinking of the quieter, less marked annual occasions. Big celebrations for birthdays, Christmas and so on have a whole different set of feelings attached – this is simpler. Pared down. A point to do an annual task, and take note of the passing season.
Today, it was time to bag up leaves that had fallen in the garden. We are fortunate to have a beautiful copper beech close by to us, and its leaves tend to end up in our garden. They even seem to stop at the dividing line between the (shared) drying green, and the back chunk of garden that is ours. They’re clearly on our section of moss – I mean lawn – and we get to rake them up.
It’s probably really two times worth, in the end – one to get the main lot of leaves, and another time later to catch any strays when the final leaves have come down. I am not much of a gardener in the end, despite intentions. But I can rake leaves, stuff them into black binbags, punch holes in the bags with a garden fork, and leave them to rot down to leaf mould.
Whether or not I get as far as applying earlier leaf mould depends. Some years I do. I have done so with the two little girls from nearby who decided to be my garden helpers one time. They were caught between frenetic activity and the yuk factor that comes with handling the leaf mould when it’s ready to go onto flower beds. Quite fun to watch.
There’s meant to be a hierarchy of black bin bags, so that the ones at the bottom have rotted the most, and are meant to be the ones to use first. But with all the storms this year, a section of fence/trellis came down, and I can’t reach it yet. I’m waiting for the clematis to stop growing, before I cut a bit back and reveal where the bin bag stash is meant to be.
Sadly, I seem to be better at doing the final tidy up for the winter than the actual planting and enjoying in the spring and summer. The weeds get going more quickly than I do, and I can feel caught out. But bagging some leaves – I can do that. A bit of pruning at the end of the year – that too.
Nice weather today – not too much wind (tricky when you’re trying to rake leaves in one direction, and they’re being scattered before you know it). A bit of sunshine. A little chill in the air, but not enough to freeze the hands. A chance to look up, and be in autumn before it goes. A time to look at leaf colours, and admire the bones of the trees, reeemerging now the leaves are down.
It’s not as good as the first strawberry of the year. Or the first mince pie. But it roots me in a moment, in a task that I can do without too much thought, allowing my mind to move back and forth with the movement of the rake over the grass. Or simply stop that mental gymnastics, for a few moments. That’s something to treasure.