The mature, majestic trees rank among my favorite things about my neighborhood.
They bloom with beautiful color in the spring and provide refreshing shade in the summer.
They even provide stunning colors for a few weeks in September and October.
From there, though, it’s all downhill.
I’m talking about the endless piles of fallen leaves, which gives give new meaning to the phrase buried alive.
In our yard, the leaves start to fall after Labor Day — and they don’t stop until almost Christmas. (When we rake late in the year, we have to take care not to get tangled in the holiday lights.)
Couldn’t these trees reach an agreement about when to unleash their leaves? Must they spread our misery over three months?
The maples want to let go early, the oak tree prefers to wait awhile, and so on
Must be poor communication.
At least lawn companies benefit from the many leaves. When the crews descend on our neighborhood, they sound It sounds like an angry swarm of bees — as if the mowers and weed trimmers of summer weren’t loud enough. They strap on those giant blowers and attack like a team of Ghost Busters.
My two children used to love jumping into the giant piles of leaves — but only for maybe an hour, as leaves struggle to compete with the electronics of today.
They’d rather watch a funny You Tube or Tik Tok video of other people jumping in the leaves.
My dogs love to roll in the leaves, but then they itch and scratch until their skin is raw.. It’s obvious to me that they are allergic, but they don’t see the connection. Another reason to clean up the leaves as quickly as possible.
In my neighborhood (UA), the leaves are enormous! I bet our community has some of the biggest (and heaviest) leaves in Central Ohio. Where’s the award for that? We could have a contest. Bexley, Clintonville, Grandview, Olde Town, Worthington, etc. could all show up with their prize winning leaf.
We are lucky enough to have a trusty curbside leaf service. Somehow, though, the trucks always seem to come collecting on my street the day before we rake.
Consequently, we gather our leaves into a big pile, then wait days on end for the truck to return — cringing at every gust of wind threatening to scatter our effort back across the yard.
I started raking this year in mid-September. Those must have been the competitive leaves — the ones that always need to be first.
Now we’re almost into November and the yard is buried. My strategy of doing a little bit at a time isn’t working. I spend what feels like several hours cleaning up the yard, then watch as a strong wind or even rain blows through and erases all my work.
As we get to the end of the raking season, I head out with confidence thinking , surely this is the last time I’ll have to rake. I’ve gotten them all.
But then I look up and see the lazy leaves, the procrastinators, who will fall down when they’re good and ready.
Well played leaves, well played.