. . . on roofs, in gutters, on driveways, on lawns hiding dog poop. In the fall, a poop-finding expedition can be quite hazardous to your shoes, as well as your olfactory hardware. In a shoe-to-poop situation, having deciduous leaf wipes within reach can save your sole. However, it does seem a shame to use a leaf with a lovely red hue to wipe away doo. I prefer using brown leaves that still have some flexibility. Decomposing, brittle leaves make terrible wipes for obvious reasons.
A poop-finding expedition is best undertaken beneath an overcast sky. A bright sun casts shadows across grounded leaves and can appear poop like in places. Unobstructed sunlight can be blinding to the eye and send a Poopologist stumbling about a yard, crashing into tree trunks and falling into that which he or she is seeking, rendering the operation a lesson in counter productivity.
For some, fall represents an artistic adventure from a boring, repetitious drive. Blasting a Pink Floyd CD, while negotiating your way across a country road, can be an exhilarating, psychedelic experience.
For others, fall is a depressing time of the year. My husband says it reminds him of death, though it is the leaves that are dying and not the trees. Maybe he can find comfort in that, unless my husband is not referring to the dead leaves, but to the possible fatalities that may occur from slipping on damp, leaf-covered surfaces.
Wet leaves are the banana peels of the suburban lawn dweller. However, when falling on a lawn, you don’t hit pavement, as is typically the case when slipping on a banana peel. Although there are other hazardous objects on lawns, such as rocks, lawn jockeys, doghouses, and outdoor lighting. During the day, outdoor lighting is a paradox.
It would be foolish to pursue poop at night, even with a full moon and adequate lawn lighting. To attempt it at night during the fall would be insanity. I’ll leave that for the Poopologists to ponder, while I delight in watching red, orange, and yellow leaves twist on their stems in the wind before they break away and do what the season is aptly named after, fall. That’s all I have to say about fall, other than, for me, fall is just another four-letter word.
This is part of WTF Friday @ Unscripted Life