In my yard, or immediately adjacent to it, I have five beautiful, mature oak trees. They’re huge, old trees, maybe a couple hundred years old, and really kind of majestic. To think of how things were here when they were saplings, and the changes that have taken place on this landscape over the course of their lives gives one pause some times. Nature can be quite spectacular when we allow ourselves the time to reflect upon its beauty.
Standing in the backyard, watching the leaves waft gently down to the earth can be fascinating. Twisting and turning, sometimes rolling, ever gently cascading toward their ultimate resting place in the yard, it’s mesmerizing. One by one, gingerly drifting downward it’s a beautiful, serene, pastoral, calming scene.
But as they conspire to fall by the hundreds, thousands even, changing the landsca- GOOD CHRIST THEY WON’T STOP FALLING WHEN WILL THIS MADNESS END
Sorry.
It seems as though I’ve traded in my snowblower for a leaf blower. Not a bad trade mind you, but let’s just say I’ve spent a fair amount of time here these first six weeks on leaf relocation. On the plus side, the local Public Works Department does a pretty decent job of picking them up. The street side of my yard is as far as I have to deal with them, after that the city comes by on a semi-regular basis to vacuum them up and take them wherever leaves are taken. I did the most recent leaf roundup last Tuesday *shout out to my neighbor for coming over to help me play “Beat The Clock” with the sun* before the pending arrival of the Boy Child, PhoJoMama™ and family, so the yard would look somewhat presentable. Of course by the weekend you’d never know the yard had been raked. Ever. Except for the ginormous pile of leaves defining the boundary between street and yard. I assume the holiday has their pick up delayed since said pile is still there. It’s kind of had me holding off on leaf blower detail since I planned on waiting until last week’s pile was gone to start over. I don’t think I have that option any more though since the new crop of fresh fallen little demon leaves have blanketed my yard in various shades of brown.
In a somewhat related vein; and proving the theory that the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, (see what I did there?) this article was placed on my social media yesterday by the Boy Child. While it raises many solid environmental points, I’m choosing the vanity of a (reasonably) well-groomed lawn in its stead.
In a delightful (is there any other kind?) bit of serendipity, I hear the rumble of the leaf-vacuuming truck as it moves in to the neighborhood, clearing a spot in leaf purgatory for the past weeks collection. Wow, that’s kind of metaphysical for this time of morning. I guess my coffee has kicked in sufficiently to start the removal.
Peace