The Whirlwind of Leaves

November 5, 1999

I was reading a journal a few moments ago that caught my attention. In it the author completed a survey of sorts, giving answers to all types of questions.

I thought for a moment and decided I might type a few words.

I've seen them here, and read a lot of them, the surveys, but never have completed one. Probably won't, because I figure that the minor details don't really reveal much about who I am anyway.

Favorite this, favorite that.

I resist categories, probably because of some parental thumb print from long ago.

I keep remembering a journal entry by an author who wrote about things not being as they seem. If you saw me for a while, you might make certain assumptions about who I am, what I am like.

But then a bunch of those assumptions might just be a little off.

If you saw me riding up to the grocery store on my Harley, you might have one impression. But then what would you think when you found out I went in to buy ball canning lids and pectin for the raspberry jam I make in the fall.

I just sent 12 jars to eldest in college out west. She and her s/o love the jam.

I love going fast, and I love to walk, and sometimes get down and crawl through dark caverns deep underground.

If I see a radio tower, I might climb it.

I climb mountains and bake a mean trio of loaves of homemade bread.

My musical tastes can be shared with teenagers, or make them cringe, and ride home with mom in a different car so they don't have to endure someone like "Dr. John."

When an esteemed Harvard Law professor came to lecture, I removed the video we were supposed to watch (the Verdict) and replaced it with Mel Gibson's Road Warrior, cued up to show lots of barbarians.

I don't speed - well, not usually. Especially not off the freeway.

I've driven the autobahn at 110 with a 5 year old sleeping in the back seat. I've been hit by other drivers 6 times, not once was I at fault, or partly at fault.

I'll stop what I am doing to watch a bunny eat its way across the lawn.

Today a great southwest wind warmed our fair state from its recent chill. Crisp dried autumn leaves blew all over the place, and collected in a pile by the main doors at the office.

As buildings go, sometimes the wind whips around the corners and gets trapped, and does a little dance, spinning and twisting and whirling about. Today was such a day, and what did I do with that nice pile of leaves in the corner......

I kicked them out into the whirl and watched them spin and twist and crunch and dance. When they settled back in the corner, I kicked them out again and again, until the playful wind was gone.

There was a mess on the sidewalk.

It would get tracked into the building.

I figured the wind would play again and blow it into the corner, so I turned and walked back into the building, starched shirt and all, to deal with the world of law and finances and tax.

Who'd figure? I am after all, the building manager.