And Then Trees...

Two days spent in the garden as my little nest of vipers suggested some leaves needed gathering and the roses cutting back. This was just her suggesting but if I hadn’t got after it, it would’ve been stringently re-suggested every minute of every hour until I eventually surrendered.

Here’s the kicker. I love trees. I love watching the buds bursting forth in spring with the blossom, however briefly that blossom may stay. I love walking through woodland in the dappled light of a summers day and I’m always amazed, even after all these years, at the incredible colours of autumn leaves.

However, once they start shedding their multi-coloured shirts that is the point my love affair with trees ends thus starts the tedium of raking leaves. As for picking ‘em up to dispose of, as mentioned before, there’s something about leaves that dictates that for every huge handful grabbed, only two will make it to the disposal bag or bucket. The rest, as if by magic, will redistribute themselves back to where they were resting at start of play. Thus the cycle repeats two at a time and those wonderous colours quickly lose their appeal.
{Note to self; leaf vac for next year. Further note; I said this last year and possibly the year before that, right?}

Why didn’t the grand designer just let leaves go through the autumn colour change, let ‘em sleep in situ then re-green come spring thus saving a cycle? That’d stop drains blocking, folks like me de-leafing the ground and provide added winter protection for our feathered friends and squirrels an’ such.

When I’m gone, assuming I go in the right direction and can arrange an appointment with the grand designer, I’ll put this idea forward so if your a young ‘un, bookmark this page and in years to come if you happen to notice the trees are starting to keep their shirts on, you’ll know where the idea came from.

Oh dear, just had a thought; paradise is supposed to be one huge garden isn’t it? Oh dear. Picking up leaves two at a rime for eternity? That’s paradise? Oh dear.

Quote;  George Cooper.

“Come, little leaves," said the Wind one day, "Come to the meadows with me and play. Put on your dresses of red and gold; for Summer is past, and the days grow cold.”