A Morning's Walk

My wife and I walk, every morning,a mile or so-- it's good for us old to walk in the cold, or in the misty rain, it makes less the pain that old age is wont to bring to bodies which once burned bright with youth... though now I wear braces on ankles, braces on knees, and I walk slowly with two canes, like an old skier, sans snow, sans mountain. We passed a tree whose leaves had left behind summer's green and now fall slowly, carefully one by one in their autumnal splendor. My wife stopped me--listen, she said-- but I heard nothing--shhh, stand still she said, and I tried hard to hear the mystery.... Finally I asked her, knowing my hearing less than hers (too many rock concerts in my heedless youth), what we listen for? She looked up at my old head, and smiled-- only she could hear the sound each leaf made as it rippled the air in falling to the ground.