I was reminded recently of jumping in a pile of leaves.
This time of year, back where I grew up, was leaf kicking time. Didn’t matter how old I was, if there were leaves on the ground (in the gutter, on the sidewalk, in the park) I would have to walk through them and rustle them.
The colors on the leaves in the NE were so vibrant, the noise the dry leaves made seemed so loud and somehow comforting, and the feeling of the leaves swirling around my legs just felt so good. If you were lucky and the leaves were dry enough and there was just a bit of wind and you kicked you could get them to swirl around your head, which was always an extra bonus.
Combining the 3 sensual inputs of color, sound and motion touched (and still does) some part of my brain that makes me smile and feel like a child again.
Living in Seattle has seriously curtailed my leaf kicking. For the most part, if there are leaves on the ground, they are wet. And kicking wet leaves is not only less satisfactory, but is also likely to land you on your ass.
But there are plenty of leaf kicking opportunities here in Cairo, believe it or not. The mango trees shed their leaves once or so a year.
In addition, people will “trim” trees here at least twice a year. They are “trimmed” usually by men in gallabeyas climbing and bouncing on the branches that are to be removed until they snap off.
Then, a few days later, men in trucks come by to collect the branches.
So during that time there are all these leaves on the ground just begging to be kicked.
There are 2 minor nit pics:
- They are not all that colorful. They are either dead leaves and they are a uniform yellowish brown, or they are recently pruned green leaves. Not quite the same.
- They are filthy. They are covered in sand/dust/dirt.
So walking through them doesn’t quite conjure up the same colorful swirling magic that happens in the NE, and your shoes and slacks are then covered in dust and dirt.
But I do it anyway, cause it still puts a silly grin on my face.
Especially when I do it down the street in front of the art school. All the students stop their incessant mobile phone conversations to stop and stare at the crazy OLD khwaga kicking leaves.
Heh. They don’t know what they’re missing.