Autumn is a time of decay and hibernation. Squirrels gather the last of their nuts for the coming winter, trees shed their leaves so that they may better weather approaching storms, and the warm, playful spirit of summer retreats into its annual exile. It seems that the volume of the entire hemisphere is lowered a little every day leading up to the winter solstice.
That is until some jackass with a leaf blower comes by at five in the damned morning and jerks you out of the restful cocoon into which you’ve nestled yourself for the night, unaware that leaf blowing is in fact an utter waste of time. Leaf blowers are the bane of my existence, and if I never had to see or hear a single one ever again, I could die happy. Leaf blowing is perhaps the least productive activity performed today, ranking firmly ahead of doing absolutely nothing. At least when you’re doing nothing, you’re not making a detrimental contribution to the environment by burning up gasoline and generating a ton of noise. Leaf blowers contribute to degradation of auditory senses and air quality just to push leaves around—not to dispose of them or turn them into something useful like mulch, but just to move them around.
It is with this session of bitching that I entreat you leaf-blowing people of the world to put down your instruments of annoyance and pick up a damned rake. Thank you.