We had been watching the leaves turn for the last few weeks and the day arrived when the blanket of burnt orange and muted red covered our  front yard. 

My sons are still young and I did not know how they would respond to the task ahead. We began raking together, and to my great excitement, the colorful, crunchy, piles held us captive for the whole morning. Motivated as the pile grew we reveled in the satisfaction of the job. My three year old son raked vigorously by my side, determined to complete the work he had begun. My one year old son ambled around the yard, finding amusement in the crinkly goodness and plopping himself down in the pile whenever he pleased. 

Often, I recognize beautiful moments retrospectively, however, this particular fall day the beauty stood before me and I could not miss it. Longer than one would think possible at their age, my sons contentedly discovered the joys of labor and leisure, of working together and touching nature. And while they delved into the beauty of a first time experience, I soaked in the beauty of a moment relived, being reminded of the splendor it holds. A gratitude welled within me that I would hold onto long after the leaves disappeared.