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This is one of the seasons I like best. The rainy season has come to an end. Don’t get me wrong though, I do love rains. But the immediate months after rains are done has a loveliness all its own. The air is slowly getting drier. One can already feel a slight tightness to one’s skin.  The sunrises are slowly turning more colorful, as are the sunsets.

The sky is a delightful blue during the day. The sun is free to shine as bright as it wants. The gray clouds have retired to different parts of the world. It is hot only if you stand out in the sun for too long. Inside one’s home, it is still pleasant. The heat is yet to creep in. Summer and its attendant inconveniences are still some time in the future and not cause for worry as of now.

The leaves on trees can be heard murmuring. It sounds like the older ones are gathered together recounting stories, remembering times past as their impending departure looms large. Remember how we madly swayed in the wind during the rains last year singing songs and giggling crazily? And the bird who built a nest in that fragile top most branch. How worried we were it might fall off! 

The tales are not told with sadness or regret. They are simply shared as is. Some time of togetherness before goodbyes have to be said. The younger leaves look on awed. When their time comes they want to be as dignified. Right now, still in their giddy youth, they cannot imagine how it can be so. Perhaps time will teach them too.

This being the tropics, not all trees shed. Most shed only once in a couple of years or more, and then too the trees are rarely all bare. But some leaves must fall from some trees. And when they finally do, they gather on cemented roads and in backyards and sing their song of farewell to the tree that hosted them and the siblings they leave behind.

The hearts of the young leaves grow heavy when they hear the brittle voice of the dear departed singing as the wind pushes them around. But they remember their elegant demeanor even at deaths door and resolve to be like them when their time comes. New leaves have sprouted in the rainy season who need care. It was their duty to turn them out just right to face the world.

If trees can, why can’t a dog, thinks Luci. So she goes around shaking herself and leaving clumps of hair everywhere. They float around eventually joining the fallen leaves. Tiny tailorbird couple looking to bring up a family soon pick up the clumps of dog fur. They will make good linings for the nests. Luci is indifferent. Take whatever you want, just don’t come knocking on my window.

She includes her mom and dad too in her generosity, though we are not restricted from knocking on windows. All clothes have Luci’s hair on them, also the bed covers, the carpet, the sofa, you name it. That’s November for you. Bright, sunny, blue sky,  lots of butterflies, spectacular sunsets and sunrises, murmuring leaves and of course, falling dog hair.

©Shail Mohan 2017

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