A Fall Story

When I took this picture, it reminded me of a story told by Frank Thomas, who with his family had been a guest at our high ranch for many years. Karla and I were invited to their house in Flintridge. He had just retired, and as one of Walt Disney’s original animators had so many stories to tell. One story concerned Walt wanting him to animate a scene in Fantasia (or maybe it was Bambi) that was about the last two leaves remaining on a tree. One of the leaves was fearful of dying and falling to the ground, while the other tried to console her. Frank felt in his heart that there was no way to animate the scene without it being just plain corny. “I couldn’t figure out how to do it in a way that the audience wouldn’t either groan or crack up,” Frank said, so he kept putting it off till finally Walt got the hint and quit his pursuit.

Fall

I believe it is only in America where autumn is called fall. It must be because that’s what every leaf on every deciduous tree does every winter. Winter? Shouldn’t it be autumn? We have been wondering why all the oak trees are still hanging onto their leaves—until yesterday that is. It’s as if some big switch has been thrown and with the tiniest breeze it’s like a snowstorm outside.

I used our leaf blower to clear the walkways yesterday. Today it looks like I hadn’t done a thing. The oak trees still have tons of leaves to let go of.

In a week or so we may finally get to see the forest through the bare-limbed trees.