Leaves or grass? Not Walt Whitman, but it delayed the yard work

Saturday. Sofa. Coffee.

It's going to be a great day. The air is cold early this morning, but there is not a whisp of a cloud in the cornflower sky.  It will be perfect May weather by noon.

There is a lot to do outside today.  There has not been much time between storm outbreaks and my normal schedule to do yardwork, so I must make up a lot of ground.  Or more aptly, rake up a lot of ground.  But that's okay.  It is a perfect day to be outside.

I think I will start with the roof.  There are pockets on my roof that collect leaves.  It is time to get them down.  From there I will move to the front flower bed, which is also full of leaves, and then to the front yard, which is covered with .  .  . you guessed it, leaves.

I was busy last fall.  Give me a break. Or better yet, a rake.

I hate raking leaves.  It seems so pointless, so hopeless. Even if you are responsible and rake in a timely fashion, it is only a few months before it must be done again.  But if you take a stand and do nothing, shaking your fist at the futility of it all and at the trees, the true culprits, standing there so innocent and unaware of the trouble they have rained down like a flood of sweat and teardrops,  all you end up with is a lot of leaves and very little grass.  Hmmm. . . .  No I do want grass, but the thought of no raking or mowing did give me pause.

I suppose if I could cut down all the trees within a few hundred yards of my house.  Then I would never have to rake my roof, flower garden, or yard again.

But then I would not have trees. Or shade. Or the beautiful colors of Autumn right outside my window. Or acorns or hicker nuts for the squirrels. Or places for the birds to nest. Or the soothing rustle of a gentle breeze. Or a place to hang a swing or my ENO.

So I'll rake the leaves.

Life is not simple.  No wonder I didn't have time to rake leaves last fall.  It is tempting to consider a chain saw policy for  life, cutting down everything that causes a complication.  No leaves to rake, no roots making uneven places that hang up the mower.  No hicker nuts or acorns to shoot out of the mower and break a window.  Just a nice, smooth yard full of the same kind of grass, with no weeds, everything perfect. Everything the same.

But then, I wouldn't have the trees.

Better get started.

The rake. Not the chainsaw.

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