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Watching A Magical
Blizzard With Maya
The other day, shortly before autumn turned pages to winter in Northern California, I caught my 2-year-old granddaughter Maya standing on the couch. Naturally, I joined her – not standing on the cushions, of course, but kneeling and facing backwards so as to look out the front picture window with her.
Maya likes to stand there, in stocking feet, watching for people to come home; watching for the mailman and Amazon drivers; watching for the garbage truck. Watching, basically, the world parade by.
I highly recommend it. You should try it sometime for the little girl is onto something. Her big window surpasses a jumbo flat-screen TV, which she is not allowed to watch by the way. Wise parents she has.
My dear Maya and me enjoying some laughs.
So there my dear “Meatball” and I were, standing and kneeling side by side and watching together, when the most magical thing happened – it started to snow. The snowflakes were bigger than Maya’s open hand, almost the size of my spread palm, and they were golden and red and orange and 50 more hues of flame and fire. It was a blizzard painted by Monet.
I grew up in the Midwest with autumns of a brilliance we do not enjoy in Southern California, and I have seen the “Fall Colors” on the East Coast, but never before had I witnessed a tree shed its leaves as quickly as a person removing their coat.
One moment the majestic maple across the street was flush and full, the next moment it was as naked as a jaybird without even a jay resting on a limb. I barely exaggerate for it was like watching a time-lapse video with days condensed into a moment. In five minutes surely 50 percent of the leaves fell without pause. Five minutes more and fully 90 percent of the foliage was on the ground.
A gusty wind was not even at play. Instead, the leaves were rustling softly on the branches like wind chimes in a gentle breeze when, all of the sudden, it was as though one leaf shouted “It’s time!” and they all began letting go.
It was a bit like watching a fireworks finale and I’m certain Maya and I exhaled a few “oohs” and ahhs.” Indeed, had the mailman come by just then he would have surely seen two mouths agape and our eyes opened even wider in wonder.
If a tree can be compared to a poem, this lovely one was poetry in motion. And yet the poem that came to my mind was not Joyce Kilmer’s renowned “Trees” that famously begins “I think that I shall never see / A poem lovely as a tree.”
Instead, I smiled remembering “Fantastic Fall” penned in pencil by Maya’s mommy when she was in the fourth grade. It won the youth division of the Ventura Poetry Festival in 1998 and still hangs in my study:
Fall is a great season, here is my reason:
The leaves on trees turn golden brown,
Then the leaves fall DOWN, Down, down…
You rake them into a giant hump,
Next comes the good part – jump, Jump, JUMP!
Leaves sail through the crisp autumn air,
And fall down, Down, DOWN everywhere!
As the leaves piled up, Up, UP, I dearly wanted to grab Maya by her tiny hand, and grab a rake, and make a giant hump for her to jump, Jump, JUMP! into. Alas, we were already 10 magical minutes late for her dinner.
Next autumn, however, Maya and I shall skip dinner if need be.
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Woody Woodburn writes a weekly column for The Ventura County Star and can be contacted at WoodyWriter@gmail.com. Follow him on Twitter and Instagram at @woodywoodburn. His SIGNED books are available at www.WoodyWoodburn.com.
Personalized Signed copies of WOODEN & ME: Life Lessons from My Two-Decade Friendship with the Legendary Coach and Humanitarian to Help “Make Each Day Your Masterpiece” and “Strawberries in Wintertime: Essays on Life, Love, and Laughter” are available at WoodyWoodburn.com