Since noon yesterday, our area has been bathed in a steady, swirling wind. All the trees that were gloriously alive with fall colors now stand ankle deep in puddles of colored leaves. The naked branches look shocked, like a plucked chicken, twigs quivering in the relentless gusts.

The kids and I have been collecting some of the brilliant leaves to make wax paper creations to decorate our windows. In our world, the leaves change because of the fairies and their magic paintbrushes. As we walked home from school on Friday, several of the trees on our walk had dropped thousands of tiny red berries, blanketing the sidewalk. While I thanked my lucky stars that those trees weren't in my yard, my son and daughter skipped ahead of the stroller, giddy as they regarded the berry strewn pavement.

"Mommy! It's a berry celebration!" shouted my son.
"No, it's an EXTRAVAGANZA!" corrected my daughter.
"SO EXCITED!" added the baby from the stroller.

I have to admit that crunching through the "Berry Extravaganza" was quite enjoyable, once I had the proper outlook.

Anyway, all around the town, gutters are clogged with leaves, and still the wind continues. The leaves swirl through intersections, and collect in recessed doorways. As I passed an upscale furniture business, I noticed that three employees with rakes were stationed outside the store, fruitlessly clearing the leaves from the sidewalk and gutter, only to have a fresh layer arrive within moments. As I sat at the red light, I became concious of the giant smile that spread across my face.

The employees hunched against the chill, and wielded rakes with a methodical, yet defeated motion. Drag, scoop, repeat. Drag, scoop, repeat. Drag, scoop, repeat. Drag, scoop, repeat.

Who would ask these people to do this? It was like an obsessive-compulsive dream date. Even better was watching the man in the car next to me track each motion of the leaf scoopers with minute head motions and eagle-eyed focus. It really was a surreal scene.