i think of Bedouins in the desert
when i see leaves in the grass
each leaf a shelter
to nomads in a microscopic world


I hadn't thought much about the role of leaves on the ground until some years back when I read Robert Fulghum's book 'All I Really Need to Know I Learned in Kindergarten' (or maybe it was in his followup tome, 'It Was On Fire When I Lay Down On It'. Neither of my copies is within reach at the moment.) He has a chapter that essentially is about to rake or not to rake. He's rather humorous about leaf disputes among neighbors, and how he went against his own ethical preferences in the matter when he hired a kid who came to the door, rake in hand, looking for work.

Friends mentioned they let the leaves in their yard alone 'to do their own thing'. Leaves are 'gold'. They ask neighbors for the leaves they put out on the curb for disposal, and use them for mulch.

Leaves are gold. They form an insulating blanket, preserving moisture in the dry heat of summer and guarding against freezes in the winter. Leaves remain damp on their undersides long into the day, after the sun has dried the upperside and the grass around them. The shade and moisture permit matter to grow that feeds little mites and things that help keep the soil healthy and rich. When leaves are swept or blown from a yard, trees and shrubs lose protection for their roots. When leaves remain on the ground long enough to decompose, the nutrients nourish the soil, and the crumbly matter helps keep the soil from becoming brick-like.

Leaves aren't meant to be a chore. They fall naturally to support the trees that bore them, and to sustain the larger network of life. Even when we are not particularly intrigued by mites and lichen, we depend on that network for the air we breathe, and the food we eat.

And they can be so visually intriguing (ie, beautiful). (Yes. I confess. I've become a leaf freak.)