An Autumn Stroll
...aves are crunching under my feet. The light from the street lamp cascades over me like water. The sound of cars driving by, leaves becoming restless in the Canadian-like breeze, and the sounds of my solitary foot steps is all that can be heard. The smell of drying and decaying leaves fills my nostrils. It is a welcome change from the over-sweet cinnamon filled air of the kitchen. As I walk past the house next to mine my eyes again start to travel to the sky. Before they reach their destination, a swift moving object flies over head, a bat after a moth. I consider how they are drawn to the light, these last brave reminders of the summer evenings that have recently begun to resemble fall. I glance up to the luminous ball of light above me to see if I can see where the bat went, but I am not able to see the little flying rat. Climbing up the small grade, half way past my neighbor’s house, I can see the many lights of Heilwood, like the little fire-flies we watched in the warm, dark, July nights. They are scattered across the town as if thrown. There, there are two lights on, here only one, over there one comes on as I continue to scan. In another house four lights are glowing as bright as miniature stars. There is something comforting about lights on in the windows on cold nights. It makes me think of a fireplace and a cup of hot tea. As I continue my walk I can feel the chilliness of the night start to take its toll on me. I stare at the ground as I walk. Gray, black and white gravel greets me. Every once in a while I see a leaf scamper by me as if it were a mouse being chased by a cat. My shadow cast by the pale moon light looks as if a giant is lingering close behind me. It gives me a momentary sense of fear that I know is a left over childhood experience. I smile and force myself to walk slowly. I am nearing my destination. I breathe deeply. The cold night air catches in my throat and makes me cough. My nose is runny from the cold; I hope they have a tissue. I can hear music coming from somewhere near by. Someone must be in the garage out back. I take a minute to see if I know the song. Something old, lots of percussion. It must be Mr. Doyle. He is like an old hippy, long hair, wire glasses, but kind of nice. He always says “hi” to me when he sees me and asks me what I am learning in school. When I answer he always seems interested. And he knows lots of great stuff. One time he called everyone on our street in the middle of the night and told us to come outside and look at the Northern Lights. It was truly awesome. I think of my younger sister inside playing with her friend, Steph. I have always liked to come here, to this house, to get her. There are no Doyle kids my age so I never had a good reason to hang out here. I always wanted to, though. So when my mom asks me to get my sister I never complain, like I do when she asks me to do just about anything else. Mr. Doyle sees me standing here and calls out to me. He wonders what I am learning in school and he shakes his head when I tell him we are watching tapes of the Republican National Convention. “Don’t even get me started”, he says and I am a little disappointed. There might have been a long dissertation and he might have told one of the stories he is famous for on our street. “The girls are in the kitchen with Mia. I think they are making pumpkin soup”. He turns back to whatever task is keeping him busy tonight. I turn and go toward the side door. I knock and push open the door and a sudden burst of light hits me. A warm glow like the setting sun welcomes me into their home. I can hear the sound of laughing and smell something cooking. On each step, as I climb into the kitchen, there is a potted mum. Mums in bloom; red followed by yellow, followed by gold all leading up to the bright, noisy kitchen. Mia always keeps her mums inside. She can sometimes keep them blooming until Christmas. I can see why my sister loves it here. There are a lot of kids, five to be exact, and three dogs as well as two cats. Steph has a hamster named “The Hamster Formerly Known as Prince”, and a varying number of fish. There seems to always be an extra cousin or aunt around as well. This is a house full of noise, laughter, music and fun. T...