Bear's Den: "A Rake and a Pile of Leaves... can be Different than You Think"

Ah, late fall and leaves. It´s not the same as it once was. Years ago, folks burned everything from their family garbage to their raked yard leaves. Yep, and in regard to the leaves, it was often their offspring that did much of the raking, too. But while the chore was tedious for a young´un, there was a small pay-off. Before the adults touched a match to the piled dry foliage, the kids got to dive-in and swim in the browned crunchies. It wasn´t the best of all fun, but it wasn´t all that bad, neither. Heck, it was a reasonable payoff for having raked all of the dumb leaves, eh. But as with all things unseen and unknown, either a rake… or a pile of leaves… can be more than you think it is.

Since I was old enough to have a place out in the woods, I´ve not had to worry much about raking fall leaves. Nah, I just let´em fall and lay there until spring, when I´ll get around the raking them up so the grass beneath can breath and actually see the sunshine. Here on the Rez, the only neighbors are the wildlife. Yeah, and they ain´t all that fussy about a body´s yard, either. So the leaves pile up and stay that´away, until the whiteness of the conee (snow) hides them throughout papoonwi (winter). Ah, but for those who live in suburbia, it has never been a choice. Sure, everything from city ordinances to a neighbor's ire mandate that a suburbanite eradicate the leaves from their yard... as soon… as they fall from the tree and alight upon the Earth Mother. Then leaves are immediately gathered, bagged properly and toted to the closest natural waste depository. But it wasn´t always that way.

When I was a kid, my folks burned much of their garbage, as did many other families – that´s just the way it was. We had an old 50-gallon drum in the back yard that was called the ´burning barrel´, and everything that was easily combustible got torched in that baby – the rest went into the tin garbage can for the truck to pick up. You got charged for the number of cans you had, so this was cost effective for a family, eh. Yes´um, and yard leaves were raked into huge piles that kids gleefully dived into and swam around in. Afterwards, the adults lit the pile and ´guarded the burn´ until nothing but ashy embers remained. It was an annual fall ritual. You could go anywhere and pass through skeins of blue smoke wafting in the cool air and smell the unique scent of burning leaves. Folks were out tending their burning leave piles everywhere. This was a normal fall sight, scent and ritual, eh. Yep, and the burn tenders would use their rakes to feed the leaves into the fires. So, rakes were pokers and gatherers in this respect, eh. Heck, the word rake is a noun and it has a simple enough definition; 1: A long-handled implement with a row of projecting teeth at its head, used especially to gather leaves or to loosen or smooth earth. But, the word rake also has another meaning as well: 2: An immoral or dissolute person; a libertine. Um-hmm and I knew a kid who fit this particular definition of a ´rake´, back in the days of raking and burning leaves.

Now, back when I was 14, roller-skating at the Roller-rink was the big deal on a Saturday night. And so it was that my buddy Dave Cole and I were going on one such occasion. My mom was giving us a ride, and just before we left to pick him up, he called. He said that he had to rake leaves – again – and couldn´t go until he got them done. He´d catch up with me later. So, off I went, and, sure enough, Dave showed up 45-minutes afterwards. When I asked him what the deal was, he explained. His dad already had one big pile of leaves, and had given Dave the remainder to finish. Dave had raked and was in the house getting ready to go when old Jimmy Johnson came along. Now Jimmy was a smallish guy, our age, with longer hair than most – we all had long hair back then. Now, Jimmy was easily beat-up, but, even though small in stature, he was often the biggest miscreant. He often just had a ´mean´ going on, eh. Dave had all of the leaves raked, and they were aligned in excellent piles out by the road where Mr. Cole was going to burn them that night. Old Jimmy dove right in and commenced to happily scatter them everywhere. He made a mess of the piles, and, by the time Dave spotted him through a window and ran out to give chase he had gleefully scattered the leaves all over. And, as small guys are often able to do – he outran Dave easily. Yep… Jimmy Johnson… was the other definition of a ´rake´.

In the middle of his story, Dave started snickering. I looked up and followed his gaze to see Jimmy Johnson walking up to the skate rental booth. Man, his face and hands were covered with red welts and he looked like 3-miles of bad road you wouldn´t even attempt in a tractor. Dave´s good humor caught Jimmy´s attention and Jimmy´s face, which was already full of red splotches, turned completely red. He extended a digit on his hand to Dave, who then burst-out into a fit of totally uncontrolled laughter. That was when I learned that the biggest pile of leaves – the one that Dave´s dad had accumulated – contained a fair amount of poison oak that Mr. Cole had removed from around a tree in the back yard. Uh-huh, and poor old Jimmy´s leave swimming and pile messing-up had apparently made him the recipient of the oak´s oil. So, there you go. As with all things unseen and unknown, either a rake… or a pile of leaves… can be more than you think it is.

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David Walks-As-Bear is an Inter-Tribal Elder and Kispoko Shawnee Indian. He works as a private game warden and detective and is a novelist and syndicated newspaper columnist living in Northwest Michigan. Contact him at The White Lake Beacon: 231-894-5356 or visit his website at: www.Walks-As-Bear.com