Life Talk With Craig Lounsbrough

Did you ever run with leaves: a wild race born of wind and liberated foliage?  It’s a race, but more than that it’s really an invitation to partnership and farewell.  Racing with the leaves was not about finishing first; rather it was about a romp enjoyed in the midst of a transition being celebrated.  It was playing with a friend before that friend was called away home. It happened in fall’s own autumn when the leaves turned dry.  They had long lost their color, becoming curled and brittle; gnarled sometimes like hands beset with arthritis.  Winter’s impending snows skirted the horizon and teased the forecast.  It was something like the last hurrah before fall slipped away.  As a kid, it was an invitation to play one more time; to playfully challenge the remnant of leaves that had yet to sleep. It most often began in the street as a brisk winter wind dove and spun from graying skies; slipping just centimeters over the asphalt.  The myriad leaves strewn about seemed to grab hold for one final thrill, hitching