THE LUCK BUSH

 

The arbor room is shaggy with overgrowth, and is slow to give up any of it---still jungly green, shady and with a chill deeper than any part of the yard.  The Summer Shade of the place is welcome and langourous, but the scant sun-peeps through this Autumn overhang leave it cold and not as inviting.    The floor is covered in brown, with very little of the outside golds and oranges making their way into the sanctum, and the chimes scarcely sing.    Even the wooden chairs have darkened, and the cheery yellow of the brick floor is subdued beneath the drifts.

But there are lovely vistas to be had---whole palettes of warmth and glow.   You could just sip these scenes like hot cider.

 Our back-door Luck Bush is doing her ruby-red thing right now, turning in her Summer-green gown for a red-velvety number which could grace any number of Fall parties---especially the one being thrown all over the neighborhood about now.   And we had, and still have, a sweet little ceremony which accompanies each departing guest and family member.  Keirsten started the custom, way back in the early 00's, when they lived with us for a time.  

Whenever anyone, family or guest, headed for a vehicle to leave, one of us outdoors would go to the bush, grabbing a leaf and handing it in through the window.   Every car Chris ever drove had an ever-crisping pile of little Luck Leaves wisping their way into crumbs in the console and ashtray, for Sweetpea took up the torch and kept him supplied with one per exit, every day that she was here.    And we'd hand her one, as she left us in the afternoon. 

The sitting-room windows are shaded in green in Spring and Summer, hazing into a rosy glow as the Autumn changes come.   The changing shade and the carrying on of a sweet little tradition---handing out Good Luck and Traveling Grace in the form of greenery or reddery from grubby little hands---those are family things, our own things, which make this Home.   And every time a Luck Leaf goes into a departing hand, my heart goes with it.