Autumn is leaving its leaves.

I leafed through the book on leaves.

Autumn leaves.

Autumn is almost gone but with the warm weather it has been dawdling and only now the leaves are leaving. In a week’s time it will be winter and yet many trees are still in leaf. I took the above photo to preserve how beautiful leaves can be. Back some decades ago, I went through a period of drying leaves in books but still remember how a fascinating discovery it would be coming across those after a year or so, when opening the book.

I sometimes wonder what will be still showing when autumn befalls us and what be left of any of us? A photo album, my postage stamp collection, a few boxes of photos, copies of rate notices? A faded marriage certificate? (With many, perhaps divorce certificates). I recently found a yellowed certificate of quantity-surveying together with one of printmaking including lithography. What will be made of us when a great-great-great-great grand child in two hundred years time will decide to dig into their heritage and open up the drawers to find those long lost dusty remnants of our lives?

The beauty of a nice fall preceding a good refreshing winter is that it gives a chance on reflection. How did it all go? Sure, a good melancholy has always been welcome, give a philosophical escape, especially in late autumn. Many escape reflecting on the past, and find escape in petrol driven leaf-blowers or go gambling at a club, watch footy on TV or worse,  give vent to a hopeless despair by denigrating Muslims or the Chinese.

For many the watching of falling leaves has a lot going for it. It gives a respite. I love it!

The Falling Leaves

By Margaret Postgate Cole

November 1915

Today, as I rode by,

I saw the brown leaves dropping from their tree

In a still afternoon,

When no wind whirled them whistling to the sky,

But thickly, silently,

They fell, like snowflakes wiping out the noon;

And wandered slowly thence

For thinking of a gallant multitude

Which now all withering lay,

Slain by no wind of age or pestilence,

But in their beauty strewed

Like snowflakes falling on the Flemish clay.

This Body Corporate life.

The hostility by some of my fellow residents of our housing complex sometimes borders on the plain silly. On my approach they turn around or start coughing. Of the eight homes four are lived in by owners and the other four by people renting. Of the owners, we are the only couple. An item on its own a solid reason for their chagrin. The other three ‘owner homes’ are occupied by bitter divorced women. The husbands are probably still running or celebrating their lucky escapes. The eldest, apart from being bitter, divorced, and eighty-three years old is also the ‘chairperson’ of the ‘committee’ in charge of implementing the rules of the common held property. She does so with the fervour of Stalin. The Chairperson makes a big difference between owners and renters. She is also English and hints at being Prince Philips illegitimate daughter.

It is sometimes thought that in ageing people soften up and become less hostage of their nastiness or being mean-spirited. That’s not really true. Those with so much time on their hands still needs their attention to be focussed on something. They can’t just dwell on misery or relive past spousal battles. Those with nasty character traits will sharpen them and exercise those skills in doing harm to others. They have all that time. Readers might remember my twenty minutes career in being secretary of the same committee of our housing complex. I resigned when I was expected to write nasty letters to my fellow residents (the renters) about non-existing car parking problems.

Lucky that we have nice immediate neighbours who also happen to rent. They are busy and go to work each day. They sometimes pop in, exchange the latest gossip. They too are aware of the bitter divorcees and their obsession with trivial. It gives us no greater subject to regale upon than to speculate what next rule they will dig up from the Strata Law manual…They have meetings whereby they have Strata Law readings. Lately, the subject of ‘gardens’ have been perused. A letter was sent. “Three dead plants have to be removed opposite the common-held garden of the Oostermans.” A clear war declaration and reprisal for refusing to cross swords with my neighbours about parking, ( by-law 33d) Narrow-mindedness is increasing with age.There is nothing much we can do about it.