We have a lot of wonderful trees in our yard. Different sizes. Different kinds. And right behind our house is a big patch of woods, so looking out our windows we see nature everywhere. And on one side of our property there is a stream surrounded by more trees. In the spring everything is glowing green as new leaves bud on the branches. In the summer it is lush with a cooling shade. And it reaches it's peak in the fall when it explodes in reds, yellows, browns, golds, and oranges. Just beautiful.
And then those leaves fall. And fall. And fall. A carpet of leaves. Piles of leaves. Leaves from our trees. Leaves blowing in from the woods. Leaves blowing from the stream. And the battle begins. The leaves trying to cluster in the gardens, on the deck, against the house. While I try to put them back in the woods or pile them near the street for the giant leaf-sucking truck. Choosing the right time to rake is more of an art than a science. Clearing the yard too soon just means I'll have to do it over and over. Too late and I run the risk of an early snow that turns them into a thick, heavy, wet clump that is almost impossible to move. (I speak from experience having used the snow shovel one year to 'rake' the leaves!)
My Magic 8 Ball told me this was the weekend. Working along with Son19, two rakes, a pitchfork, a hand-held blower, and the big 5 horsepower blower, it took us seven hours to turn that thick carpet of leaves into The Great Leafy Mountain Range - mounds of leaves all along the edges of the yard and in the woods. Well, to almost accomplish the task. Some leaves will blow back in the yard and need to be cleaned up. And there is still one large tree in the back that hasn't dropped any leaves yet. Maybe by Turkey Day. But most of it is done.
Anyone got some Ben Gay?