The cycle of years

My parents have an enormous liquid amber tree in their front yard. Each autumn, as the weather turns, the leaves fall and cover the grass like a carpet. As children, my grandfather would pay us 20 cents to help him pick up the leaves. A meticulous man, he would sometimes do this task twice a day.

Same job, a different papa. Still paying 20 cents to the grand kids to help pick up the leaves.

There was time for work.

And time for play.

Although the rooster found a way to do both.

He cannot believe the number of ways he has found to use his mighty dump truck.

Poppy made it an easy job to fill the bin.

But to get in that great big bin and stomp down the leaves?

Pure Magic!