“The ground was littered with folks that had fallen from the tree.” What tree? I have no idea. Family tree? Possibly, those branches can get a little slim from time-to-time. Tree of life? We’re all going to fall from that one at some point and time.

I’m not sure what tree, or what folks, I was thinking about when that first sentence came out of my mouth a few nights back while my wife and I were out celebrating our 25th dating anniversary. Words come out in odd arrangements sometimes, that’s what they do, and my wife has endured 25-years of such. Dawn’s a lovely lady, and a quarter of a century in her company has been a good start to the next quarter.

In my defense, there was wine involved, and a charcuterie board that contained some ham that may have been a bit gamey. Gamey duck…expected. Gamey ham…expect a quick exit of all that’s had the misfortune of mingling with it. Until about two years ago I thought “charcuterie” was something that a philandering briquette salesman might contract at a seedy county fair BBQ cook-off where aprons were optional.

Maybe it was a tree from my youth that crossed my mind? The tree I watched my brother Jarvis fall from when we were wee lads living in Palermo, North Dakota, sometime around 1978. That would have made me about 6 and Jarvis about 5. We seem much older in my memories of that time, but memories seem to be fluid and fluttering, and when I think back I suppose I’m thinking back from the vantage point of whatever age I am at the point and time that particular memory works its way back to me.

To be totally honest, I didn’t just “watch” him fall. That would imply that I was an innocent bystander, someone that just happened to be in the vicinity of a tree that happened to contain my brother, who happened to fall out at that very moment. “Innocent bystander” was something I rarely could have rightly been accused of as young boy…young adult…not-so-young adult…

Also, since we’re being honest here, he didn’t “fall”. That would imply that he accidently exited the friendly confines of a tree branch, plummeted quickly to the ground, and landed fairly close to the sneaker clad feet of his not so innocent older brother. To be clear, he wasn’t physically pushed, but may have been verbally prodded.

Books can be dangerous. They can put ideas into people’s heads. Ideas that some heads are not prepared to logically and reasonably examine.

My brother and I had a book that depicted elves fluttering about on leaves. Small elves, big leaves. As fate would have it, we had a tree in our backyard that had big leaves, and I had a small brother. Perfect conditions to run a few tests to verify the legitimacy of “leaf flight”.

I’m sure Orville and Wilbur had similar beginnings. Then Orville decided the popcorn business was less risky, and Wilbur ran off with a talking horse. So it goes.

My doubts concerning elf aeronautics were confirmed shortly after Jarvis firmly held a large leaf under his little backside, and upon my suggestion, leapt from the tree. Twice.

Fall is in the air, and on the ground, catch a leaf while you can.