It is September 3rd, 100 degrees on a South Texas afternoon, but outside my windows I hear the rustling of leaves as my one burr oak tree is shedding its green leaves that have turned brown. It is the strangest thing to see piles of brown leaves filling the flowerbed overflowing onto the driveway and walkway onto the porch. The drought we are experiencing perhaps has confused the poor tree. I don't know much about trees, gardening and such, but I do know it is too early for my tree's leaves to be turning fall colors and fluttering to the ground. As the tree grows, the amount of leaves to rake and bundle in bags increases. Thinking about doing this task in 100 degree temperatures is a bit unpleasant but even more disturbing is what it does to my picture of raking leaves on a crisp, cool FALL day with pumpkins gracing the porch corners. It really causes quite an inner conflict for me. Enjoying 18 month old Madison for the weekend includes her discovery of all these leaves to crunch, walk among, watch fall and hear the sound of which I guess brings a little relief to this puzzlement. There is definitely nothing I can do about the early release of all these leaves. I hope it isn't a sign of ill health on the part of the burr oak but fear it may be. And when the temperatures drop into the low 90s this coming week, I will have to plan on an early morning appointment with the rake, bags, leaves and coffee (perhaps iced) if I can wait that long to get rid of the growing pile outside my front door. I have wanted to notice if other burr oak trees in our area are doing the same thing as I drive around town but I have forgotten to look. If I can see this as a positive sign that Fall IS coming when we have endured such a long, hot summer that seems to have no end in sight, that it won't be long until those pumpkins, acorns, fall leaves and all things "Fallish" begin to appear, then I will have made the transition from conflict to resolution. I do have a ways to go, I must admit. I was hoping that writing about it could help some. As children so intent on justice always call out "it's not fair!", I feel like shouting with them. Leaves turning golden brown and fluttering to the ground in mass on a 100 degree early September day in South Texas demanding attention IS NOT FAIR. You are robbing me of that delightful experience I look forward to every October that now will not find fulfillment for another whole year. Oh well, enough of this. Maybe what I need to do is go buy a can of pumpkin and make cookies or muffins, waffles or bread (or all of the above) and celebrate the changing season to come. There you go. I made the switch I was looking for and can now get up from my writing spot more content and at peace with the sound of falling leaves outside my window.