Between the four of us, we have filled about three garbage-sized cans and 20 tall brown bags with leaves since they began falling. For a while there, it seemed like the trees would never run out of leaves to drop on us. Finally, when I walk out back, the deck is remaining clear. A crisp, clean chill meets me when I open the door, and I find great satisfaction in the bare decking.
The front yard, however, has been needling me for a couple weeks now. I knew the second neighborhood leaf vacuuming was coming, and I didn’t want to waste my time bagging all those leaves when I could just rake them over the curb, so I ignored them. But not really. I’m a little too obsessive to really ignore them; they bothered me.
I arrived home from work today with about an hour to spare before I had to start dinner and then jump on a meeting, so I changed into comfy clothes, grabbed a rake, put in my ear buds and started my audiobook, and attacked the front yard (well, not really attacked – I do still have some lambs ear and asters I need to be mindful of).
All those leaves are now tucked up in a neat line along the curb, awaiting the goofy looking vacuum truck that will come lumbering down the street tomorrow with its insatiable appetite.
My Corner of the Village 