First thing this morning as I walked across campus, a burst of wind blew a billow of yellow leaves down from the trees and sent them scurrying along the flagstones. My colleague remarked on the beauty of the scene but I said, "Mark my words: the leaf-blowers will be out in force this morning." And now there they are all over the mall making their infernal racket, a noise so annoying that the employees operating the leaf-blowers wear ear-plugs.
But what about the passers-by? Who will protect my ears from all those mechanical decibels?
The noise, though, is not the only thing I find annoying about leaf-blowers. I could harp on how much healthier we would all be if we raked or swept leaves the old-fashioned way, or I could point out the leaf-blowers' reliance on fossil fuels, or I could gripe about the leaf-blowers' assault on the aesthetic experience associated with autumn leaves.
But what really burns my biscuits is the way leaf-blowers blow leaf mold into the air we all have to breathe. Leaf mold belongs on the ground, not in my airways, but all it takes to spark a nasty allergy attack is a little dampness, a pile of leaves, and a brigade of diligent leaf-blowers.
They always make me want to cover my ears and grumble, those mechanical menaces, but maybe a better plan would be to simply refuse to breathe in close proximity to leaf-blowers. That's right: if you don't shut that thing off, I'll hold my breath until I turn blue!
1 comment:
They're also really bad erosion-wise. Yet another thing to grumble about! (And just think, if we left the leaves in place to do their thing, they'd protect and add to organic material in the soil (eventually).
(I have good excuses made up for avoiding all sorts of labor.)
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