Observations from the leaf pile

The leaf pile. One of the things that marks the time of year. I don't remember it being so significant to me as a child, but for my kids, it's as counted on as the Christmas tree.

Today we had warm weather, blue skies, and a fresh crop of fallen leaves. After naps, we headed outside, raked, and commenced the playing.

Caleb is the one that most amuses me in the leaf pile. He is Mister Structure. Mister Rules. Mister Let me have My Square Lego Blocks, and I will only make copies of what I've already seen. Mister Literal and Dogmatic. But get him in a leaf pile, and he is someone else altogether.

First the pile was a car, and we all took turns driving. Then it was a race car. Then a roller coaster. Then a space ship.

I mean really. It was a pile (or scattering) of leaves. It looked like none of those things. The leaf pile is the ONLY time I see Caleb imagining abstractly.... and it's not like I don't provide opportunities or the example. I am Miss the Opposite of all of Calebs structure and form. But to me the leaf pile, was, well a leaf pile, that smelled great and sounded great and felt great. But it remained a leaf pile to me. Ironic or something, isn't it?

I got my final giggle as the leaf pile took on it's final form. Caleb, in all his homeschool precociousness, turned to Anna and Sofia thoroughly excited "Let's use it for an ancient burial ritual. I get to be the first dead guy!"