Blow me.

Fall has arrived. It's crisp. It's colorful. Leaves float gently to the sun-dappled ground, piling gaily around tree trunks and along sidewalks. They crunch merrily (yes, merrily, dammit) underfoot as one prances along (What? I prance. Everyday. What kind of person doesn't prance?).

And then some jerk wanders by with a leaf blower that sounds like a jet engine, kicking up dirt and dust and temporarily shuffling the leaves, which the wind will blow back just moments later if left unscooped. And if one scoops? What then? Our trash collector won't even accept bags filled with leaves and lawn clippings. (Good man.)

Leaf blowing must be the ultimate act in futility. And wasteful energy, both human and machine. And really freaking annoying, you guys.

Husband and I usually take walks around campus during our lunch break, and it seems not a day has gone by recently that we haven't been accosted by the roar and dust of leaf blowers. Beautifying.

Well, I charge each of you to ignore the leaves that fall upon your lawn. Even, enjoy them. Left intact, the leaves will naturally break down and nourish the ground upon which they fall. And you will have expended no more energy than making a hot cup of cocoa and gazing out your window, looking at the colors that paint your lawn and smirking at your neighbors wasting their time.