Brooms

As I was saying the other day, I love autumn. But this week, I only love it kinda.

It’s all very well waxing lyrical about the cool air and new beginnings. The reality of autumn is a little bit more mundane, I’m finding. Piaf might warble, “The falling leaves/ Drift by the window….” but did she ever have to go out there and sweep them off the patio?

Well, I comfort myself that it’s good for the soul. Meditative. Calming. I pretend that I’m a wise Japanese sage in a stylised Oriental water colour picture painted on a scroll, sweeping leaves, sweeping, sweeping, sweeping.

I sweep using what they call a witch’s broom here in the UK. In the East, we call it a plain old broom but over here, if you go into a shop and ask for a broom, they will give you something like an upside down T. You push the T along and gather your leaves in front of you, working in straight, regimented lines. I can’t get along with the T shaped broom - it feels weird and uncomfortable for being so strict and uptight.

Although I’ve been in the UK for 30 years or more, I can only sweep with the Oriental / witch’s broom, which is the one that looks like a giant paint brush. You sweep from side to side or gather the leaves like you would gather children together, sweeping them towards you in a protective motion. It feels to me fluid and natural - and sort of artistic, I suppose. As well as wise and Japanese sage-like.

It’s funny, isn’t it, how a thing as boring as a broom can be so, well, interesting - it’s almost as if by taking on a meditative air while I’m sweeping, I find myself actually meditating and noticing these nuances about sweeping and how the actions are making me feel… Huh, maybe I am really becoming a wise Japanese sage….!

Photos: T-shaped brooms - my photo; oriental broom thanks to kleinmatt66 from fllickr.com (CCL)