The horn beeped and I looked up to wave at the driver in the passing vehicle.
"That guy must think I'm crazy," I thought as I turned back to raking leaves on my front lawn.
"He may be right." The thought process continued as I looked up into the limbs of the huge pin oak. There were enough leaves clinging to the branches to cover a city block. So why get in a hurry when so few have fallen? Why not wait until they all come down? That's a pretty reasonable and logical question, isn't it?
I continued swinging the rake as I remembered those past years when the leaves accumulated over a several-week period only to be packed down by several rain showers. I remembered the job it was to scratch through inches of wet leaves in order to save what was left of last summer's grass. Yep, I may be crazy, but....
Do you remember the fun you had as a child, jumping into piles of leaves? It was one of the fun times during autumn, that and the Halloween fun that occurred every year. Then there was always a big Thanksgiving dinner and, a few weeks later, Christmas break which never seemed long enough. Then it was back to books unless a January snowstorm extended the vacation.
How did we get from piles of leaves to Christmas break? Enough about leaves, beeping horns and blisters from swinging the rake handle. Maybe next year I'll try something different. Perhaps, instead of waving to the honker, I'll motion him over and suggest he might bring a rake and get in on the fall fun.
A recent 'Cuff generated several comments concerning the strange, interesting and different summer just past. Several mentioned unusual years they remembered. Though, like yours truly, trying to remember in which years they happened to be was a challenge.
Every year is different and at least one unusual event can be traced back to a particular year even if the year number escapes. The Chinese have a method of naming years, this year being the Year of the Goat, or is it the Year of the Sheep? Maybe it's both. Maybe we Arkies should settle on each year to be called the "Year of the Pig." Make that Razorback. Or, in Gentry, it could be the Year of the Pioneer; in Decatur, the Year of the Bulldog; and in Gravette, the Year of the Lion.
We probably wouldn't go wrong calling 2015 the Year of the Worms -- web worms, that is. Their calling cards remain in the trees to remind us of their infestation, hopefully, a once-in-a-decade occurrence. More recently, we might call 2015 the Year of the Ladybug. Those pesky little critters have been swarming in droves, sneaking into houses, flying in your face, inside the car, staining the counter when you swat one with the newspaper -- which, by the way, stirs up a most unpleasant odor. Finally, to reinforce your knowledge of their presence, one might settle on your arm and take a bite before you can snatch it.
What we are calling ladybugs are, in reality, beetles. Not bugs. Remember that rhyme, "Ladybug, ladybug, fly away home; your house is on fire, your children will burn"? Remember?
To make a long story short, the bugs that are buzzing the area this year are not the good old American ladybugs, but rather they are Asian lady beetles, imports, which threaten our native specie. They are seeking places to hibernate so they can hatch again next year, to fly in our faces and bite us on the arm or neck.
We've traveled from leaves to ladybugs to short Christmas vacations, to Chinese goats. So just honk as you go by while I'm continuing the leaf-raking project. Wish me luck, the sweet gum tree in the back yard has only leaves to rake and no sweet gum balls to ... whatever.
P.S. It's been a long time since I mentioned turning on your headlights when it's rainy or foggy, especially during long, dark winter days. Confession: I forgot to turn on my headlights during the recent misty spell and was reminded by a motorist who blinked his or her lights at me. Thanks. My face turned red as I reached for the switch. I hope none of us ends up with a similar red face in the future.
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Evans is a former owner and long-time editor of the Gravette News-Herald. Opinions expressed are those of the author.
Editorial on 11/18/2015