Taking time to skip through leaves

Last week I saw a student skipping. I hardly ever see anyone skip. Girls aren't allowed to skip once they reach puberty, and boys are pretty much discouraged from skipping altogether. But here was a student skipping through fallen leaves, kicking them as she went down the walk. I was behind her watching the long braid down her back bounce and listening to the swishing sound of the leaves. I would have thanked her, but I suspect she would have just thought I was very weird and found the encounter disturbing. I kept my distance.

I was thankful that this college doesn't have nearly enough staff to remove all the leaves quickly. Over at the Woodrow Wilson Birthplace, a leaf hardly hits the ground before a guy with a leave blower is out to get it off the walk. Why- What is more fun than walking through newly fallen leaves- Aren't they nature's mulch- No one rakes them in the woods. Don't they take care of themselves eventually-

My neighbors are trying to sell their house, and I am sure they are thinking evil thoughts about me because my leaves are blowing over onto their otherwise leafless lawn.

Not only is it spoiling the pristine appearance of their front yard, it is causing potential buyers to question the wisdom of buying a house next door to a person with such low standards of lawn care. I don't want to rake, but maybe they would think better of me if I sent them a nice bottle of wine and an apology. They are fine neighbors, and I hate to lose them. Maybe if I don't rake, I will scare off buyers, and they won't leave. Or maybe only those buyers with relaxed attitudes toward lawn care will consider being my neighbor, and that will be fine with me.

To my way of thinking, the constant changes that take place in fall and spring are nature's way of getting us to pay attention. How often do I fail to notice anything around me because I am lost in my own thoughts-

This semester, students in my class were asked to pick out one tree and look at it every day. Alicia Bortone reported that her tree never changed during the time of this experiment, but once she started looking at it every day, she just kept on. Eventually it turned a brilliant yellow and now is leafless. She wrote, "Having to pay attention to the tree throughout the semester was hard at first because it was not something I was used to doing. I did not have time to pay attention to a tree, something that was not important to me in any way. Over time, the more observations I did, the more I found myself really paying attention to the tree's details like its movement, its colors, its overall appearance … I found myself paying attention to my surroundings more and seeing beauty in places I never noticed before. I drive to get to school every day. I usually just watch the road and go about on my way, but after noticing how the tree in my yard changed, I wanted to see how other trees changed, so I started looking at the trees as I was driving. I felt like I was driving through a rainbow of yellows, reds and oranges. The trees were so colorful, and I was just amazed. I could not have seen a more gorgeous sight, and I felt so grateful to have seen such a magnificent scene."

I try to teach students to pay attention, and then they have to remind me to do what I have told them to do.  I am a slow learner, but Alicia and the unknown skipper are good teachers. I think I am going to try out that skipping thing myself … when no one is looking.

Patricia Hunt is a Mary Baldwin College chaplain and Staunton resident.