if the willows are the first to wake up and greet the spring around here, the oaks are the most reluctant to accept the end of fall. they grudgingly let go of their leaves one at a time, often resisting until next spring’s swelling buds physically push them off the branch. most of the leaves in our yard, at least the ones that didn’t get raked into the chicken coop, are currently buried under six inches of snow.  but the oaks keep falling. a layer of snow, a layer of oak leaves, a layer of snow another layer of oak leaves. sounds like a lasagna recipe.  mmmm, lasagna. maybe for dinner? a nice tomato sauce. three italian cheeses. some sausage with fennel . . . wait, where was i?

snow-dusted red oak leaf in winter

saint paul, minnesota