The Lure of the Leaves

Returning home from dinner out on Friday night, Dad decided we could all use an evening walk on the MHC campus before heading home for bed. As Grafton's recent taste for walking is best described as "reluctant", we have to devise strategies for coaxing him along, lest we end up holding him most of the way. Knowing that Grafton loves stomping through leaves, Dad decided to use this as a motivating force for Grafton. "I think I see a big pile of leaves, Grafton!", yells Dad. Peering through the darkness of MHC campus, Grafton spots the leaves along the path and runs towards them. With the leaves conveniently lining the side of the path, Grafton tromps through the crunchy detritus, kicking colorful shapes into the air with each step. Dad and Mom join in. Alas, the trail of leaves ends, and Dad looks off into the distance to find the next pile. The MHC grounds keepers are too well-funded, however, and the lawns are mostly devoid of the expected autumnal ground cover. But the recent winds have collected small piles around tree and fences, and Dad finds what he's looking for between a pair of trees. "Grafton, I think I see another big pile!", Dad exclaims. After searching the horizon, Grafton confirms, "Big pile leaves! Big pile leaves!" and starts running across the grassy field. After pulverizing a few thousand more leaves under his feet, we run to the next pile alongside a fence. Then we follow a another trail of leaves alongside the stone curb in the street (no cars). Grafton is walking like a champ now, making good time. But it wasn't until the very end of the walk when we found the mother lode. A forty-five degree embankment rising up from the corner of a small parking area had completely escaped the attention of the campus ground crews, and had accumulated a virgin pile of leaves so deep and fluffy that it was, without question, the jewel of leaf piles in all of South Hadley. But this was not apparent at first. From the top of the embankment, Grafton starts walking down into the leaves, joyfully romping through knee-high depths. But with a few more steps he plunges down into an unexpected abyss, disappearing almost entirely from view, save the hood of his winter jacket. Flailing, then rolling, and finally rising to his feet, he emerges, giddy with delight. He then runs from the pile, only to turn around and with a running start, dives back into the pile. This goes on for some time, with Dad's encouragement. Mom has already headed back to the car for warmth. Eventually, we both run out of steam and head back to the car as well. When we arrived at home and removed Grafton's jacket, we found a lot of these.