"I'm almost done with this closet," I frowned surveying the piles of winter-ready wool still on the bed and the floor. If the weather turned cold, again, I wanted to have more than a cotton sweater to put atop a summer skirt!
"It's gorgeous outside," he assured me, "turning on his heel and looking pathetic, "but if you want to stay in and clean, I will go out and blow some leaves around."
The practical, organized and perfectionist side of me looked straight into the embrace-this-moment-of-life-that-you-can-never-get-back-a-sort-of-date, love-a-good-walk side of me and I joined him halfway down the driveway. I suspect, after all these years, he knew that the desire to be organized and ready for the week ahead would give way to a crisp fall afternoon's potential.
We headed down to the "pond" and trudged through the piles of crunchy leaves, mostly in silence, looking at the newly fallen branches. After all these years, we both knew, on some level, what we were looking for.
About halfway around the pond, the sun leaned into the horizon and cast an orange shadow that nearly ensconced the entire pond. It seemed to be saying, "I'm glad you came to stopped by to visit in these hours before hunting season begins in earnest in the morning." This time, quietly acknowledging the darkness that takes over in minutes this time of year, we decided to head home.
"I was remembering," I began.
"That time when we got lost in the woods, back when the kids were little," he finished.
I didn't need to respond as we were in a silent-symphony as we trudged home in the fading light of day. The clothes were not straightened out this weekend, but I was absolutely grateful for the "afterglow" in my muscles and peace in my heart that follows a brisk walk through crunchy leaves on the edge of the "don't walk in the woods season."
The next morning, the temp was close to 60 degrees, a clear reminder I had made the right choice to let go of preconceived notions about what "needs" to be done. Truth be told, I "needed" that walk filled with the sights and smells of late fall far more than I will ever need a sweater!