The mail got delivered right to our door yesterday. It happens when there’s too much stuff to fit in the mailbox, or when there’s a package; so I knew when I heard the rumble of the mail truck in the driveway what it must mean. There’s a box! And there’s only one thing “There’s a box!” means when we’re three weeks deep into October. Okay, it could mean another book from Amazon, but not today.
Our leaves came–a box marking an eight year tradition now, a box filled with the colors and scents and textures of Michigan in the fall. I know these colors and textures well. I’ve memorized the vein configuration of a maple leaf, the rounded outline of an oak, the subtle serrated edge of an aspen. I draw them with sidewalk chalk in my driveway every fall, licking my finger and rubbing it into red chalk to blend bleed patterns into the yellow leaves.
My cousin sends me this box every year. She’s streamlined the process now for the most efficient delivery of the very best leaves, figuring out how to fit more leaves in a smaller box, when to find the best colors and how to preserve them so they arrive unchanged. She drives all over Houghton Lake, hand-picking the most vivid colors, texting me pictures along the way, and then vacuum-packs and seals them for delivery.
They couldn’t have come on a better day. Rotavirus has taken its toll on our home–its current victim, Lainey; and I’ve been feeling a bit overwhelmed with little to give. I escaped for a little writing last night and had to laugh when I opened my laptop to find it was dead, looked at my phone to see 1% battery left and climbed in the car to an “empty tank” light.
So I read–input instead of output. Another chapter in Sally Mann’s Hold Still and then a return to my favorite, Writing Down the Bones, where I flipped through to find the highlighted passages and read them again. They went down like warm cider.
These leaves though? The kids look forward to them every year, and there are eight years of pictures to show how much they enjoy them.
Nobody enjoys them more than me, though.
(We saved some for Lainey for when she feels better–although they might be brown and dry by then, poor baby.)
It’s a new day. I filled my gas tank last night, charged my phone, plugged in my laptop. Chicken soup simmers from the stove, and from the back window, if I look hard, I can see a flattened pile of leaves in the woods, a little duller now but still–a reminder of home and the fact that when our reserves are low, they’ll always be replenished. Filled by a text from a friend, a highlighted passage in a tattered old book, a smile, a hot cider topped with whipped cream and cinnamon, a new song recommendation, a sunset, a sunrise, a box placed at your doorstep from a mail carrier who pulls right up in your driveway, a crimson-tipped oak, a gold speckled maple. I know these colors and textures well.
Our box-‘o-leaves tradition preserved: 2008, 2009, 2010, 2011, 2012, 2013, 2014.
This warms my heart. Nella makes the best faces 🙂
Oh, these photos are so precious and gorgeous. Nella looks so positively delighted, it fills my heart right up. I’m envious of the beautiful, vibrant colors . . . here in Maryland, we’re going straight from green to crinkled brown this year. Disappointing, because I love this season so!
And I love your words on replenishment. With a 6-month-old and insanely busy work schedule lately, I’ve too felt like I had little left for anything or anyone at the end of every day. But somehow we dig deep, recharge, start again. We always press on.
I too am a transplant from a northern state – MN to be exact. This is our first fall in the desert and I am yearning for fall leaves. My heart lurched when I saw your photos, and your cover photo with Nella smiling in the leaves is just achingly beautiful – probably one of my favorites you’ve ever taken! I’m lucky enough to have to make a quick trip to MN tomorrow and my only request to my family was that I get to spend some time outside with the leaves, and you’ve inspired me to bring some home to my kids when I return. I can’t wait to see the joy on their faces when I do!!
I love that your cousin does this every year, and that we always get to read about it. I live in Ohio, and know that the turning of leaves during the fall is one of the most magical things about living in this part of the world.
I’m totally in love with traditions! Although none have ever ‘stuck’ in my family I love reading about all of yours.
That is amazing. You have a wonderful cousin! It’s great that you’re able to give a bit of fall magic to your kids.
What great pictures! Those leaves are so beautiful and your daughter’s face is one of pure joy.
I love when you get your leaves every year.
If you want some Kansas leaves…. let me know, I’d be happy to send some to you. They are just starting to turn here. 🙂
This might just be the best mail one could receive. What an awesome tradition. Hoping everyone feels better soon.
I love love love watching your family grow and change in those fall posts!
Oh this is so indescribably adorable! I can imagine just how you must feel opening that box. Every year in the Autumn I miss the smells and sounds of the leaves; that satsifying crunch when you walk along a leaf strewn path… I literally just sighed. It’s lively living in a warm clime, but there is nothing like a crisp Autumn day. Thank you for sharing this beautiful tradition x
I’ve recently discovered you and haven’t found time to really explore, but every peek I get of your words and images makes me smile. Your reference to Writing Down the Bones prompted me to comment; it’s one book I saved from college (a very long time ago) and it caught my eye just the other day so I pulled it out in the dim and vague hope that it might inspire me. It’s been sitting unopened on my dusty writing desk, but thanks to your love for it, I may just open it yet!
The photo of Nella with the leaf covering her face …. oh my! So gorgeous, so serene. Love it.
Your cousin should start a business shipping leaves to all us folks who don’t have a seasonal change (like me in southern CA) I’m quite certain she could make a small fortune 😉 I would be her first customer! I would love to get some fall pictures with actual FALL leaves from a state that actually has the FALL season!
Bummer about the rotavirus. We had that a couple of years ago. My 10 month old got it, and it last for about 8 days or so. It wasn’t any huge deal. I just made sure he stayed well hydrated and I had to change more diapers than usual. He was happy as a clam during the illness. No one would ever have guessed he was sick.
So funny–Dash was the easiest out of my three too. Happy but lots of diapers. You would have never known. Nella was worse. Lainey. She got it bad, my poor love.
This post went down like warm cider. I can always count on you for a dose of coziness and inspiration. Have a great day!
Dash’s shoes are ahhhh-dorable! Buffalo plaid=fall in my book! Where did you get them?!
They’re Toms Paseo Mid-Tops. Got them from Amazon. I think they’re an older version–could only find them on Amazon.
Beautiful tradition, beautiful photos, beautiful girls. Your posts always warm my heart. 🙂
Gaahhhh! So adorable!!! Love the colors, so beautiful.
Cheers,
Caryl
Since I started reading your blog a few years ago, I always think of you when the leaves change here in Ohio. Is it weird that a stranger (with the same first namesz though!) thinks about another stranger that she doesn’t know when noticing how lovely the leaves look here in the mid eastern US? Anyway, they’re beautiful and so are these pics 🙂
i’m going to go ahead and call this the best leaf-box-post to date. gorgeous colors.
This is beautiful. If I ever move away from the gorgeous state of Maine, I do believe I’ll have to have a friend do the same with the leaves. I absolutely love being able to look out my windows and see the colors in every direction.
Also love the reminder that sometimes we need to fill up. This is so important as moms, and how often do we forget to just STOP?
Beautiful blog – I’m sure I’ll be back.
I love this tradition and this is going to sound like the biggest possible debbie downer comment ever, but: you should be careful about introducing non-native plant material into your local habitat. All sorts of bugs and spores could’ve made the trip and once those genies are out of the bag, they are never going back in. There are increasingly campaigns around my state about making sure, for example, that you purchase local firewood when vacationing or traveling to avoid bringing non-native invasive species to your local ecology. It might be something to look into for the future.