It’s fall here in New England and the leaves are painting the landscape with their autumnal palette of colors.
Uh, right. Leaves suck.
If only the leaves would never in fact “leave” the tree.
Oh, the joy.
I was walking with my wife the other day when she told me of her new-fangled leaf idea.
“Wouldn’t it be great if leaves stayed on the trees all year but still changed color in the fall?”
What a wonderful concept.
Instead, we’re faced with Mother Nature’s personal metaphor for the death of summer and the introduction of winter. “Sure, stuff is dying, but look how pretty I can make it!”
So far we’ve raked/mowed Mother Nature’s autumnal doo-doo a total of six times with no foreseeable end to the in sight.
The beauty of the falling leaves escapes me when I spend an afternoon cleaning the yard only to find that when I’m done things don’t look much different than when I started.
The driveway in front of our house could easily be a feature story for a TV reality show dealing with the paranormal.
It seems to be a magnet for any wayward leaf blowing through the northeast corridor in search of a new home.
You can sweep these little bastards away and return 30 minutes later to find every stinking one right back where you left it.
What’s kind of fun is when it finally snows.
If you’ve missed a sizeable pile of the decaying vegetable matter, when you run it over with the snow blower it’s like firing a confetti gun.
The only difference is the confetti is now wet as well as dead.
In a perfect world, leaves would be fiery red, brilliant orange and vibrant yellow during winter, spring and summer.
Come fall, the leaves would turn into something we’d all love to clean up; cold hard cash…a nice emerald green, thank you.
If that were the case, I can safely say that I have a few trees in my backyard worth roughly 1 mil a piece.
It would sure give new meaning to the phrase, “raking it in”, wouldn’t it?