I love my Stihl backpack leaf blower. I also love Henry David Thoreau’s Walden. Can my loves co-exist? Would Thoreau, who wrote "If the soul attends for a moment its own infinity, then and there is silence," approve of pushing leaves around by means of a noisy engine?
Yes, I believe he would. There is beauty, profundity, and philosophical wisdom in the practice (dare I say “art”?) of leaf blowing, notwithstanding the snooty attitude of this blogger, who considers leaf blowers a din of ubiquity.
Cute. And often true. But our house sits on ten acres, not a small city lot. When I’m leaf blowing all the neighbors hear is a distant two-cycle whisper, not a nearby roar. So I’m able to pursue my art (yes! I will say it) guilt free.
My attention can be fully focused on what my leaf blower is teaching me about life. Thoreau said, “The mass of men lead lives of quiet desperation.” Once my Stihl is fired up, I’m not quiet. And I’m not desperate.
I’m following the adage, Carpe leafem: “Seize the leaf” (in my fractured Latin, at least). This morning when I told my wife that I planned to do some leaf work today, before the next storms hit, Laurel said, “But aren’t the leaves wet?”
Sure, they are. Yet tomorrow they’ll be even wetter. An Oregonian who waits for a perfect day to pick up November leaves—dry, warm, sunny—likely will be waiting until July. This afternoon it wasn’t raining and it was over fifty degrees. Carpe leafem!
A few weeks ago it was ideal leaf blowing weather. Too ideal, really, as I was blowing a lot of arid dirt and bark dust along with the leaves. Seeing the beauty of crisp dry leaves blowing in the Stihl-powered wind would have moved Thoreau to grab his notebook, however.
Really.
Have you seen the movie, “American Beauty”? If so, do you recall the scene where Ricky is watching camcorder footage of a plastic bag dancing in the wind? He says that it is the most beautiful thing he ever recorded. Leaves are even more beautiful than plastic bags when they dance.
I make them move using leafstinct—leaf instinct, for those unfamiliar with the subtle side of my art. I pursue my calling not on an elementary yard, a flat lawn surrounded by level garden beds, but on complex terrain filled with rocks, ground cover, walkways, slopes, evergreens, deciduous trees, a small pond, and terraced landscaping.
In short, it’s a mother to clear leaves from. Continuously I’ve got to make leafstinct decisions: Guide the pile this way around a bush, or that way? Head the leaf herd downhill, where they’ll move faster, or sideways, a more direct route to the collection area on the lawn?
Often I make mistakes. That’s life. Today quite a few leaves ended up stuck behind some clumps of heather instead of floating onto the grass because I went “down” rather than “sideways.” No big deal. I’ll just have to pick them out by hand eventually.
Perfection in leaf blowing isn’t possible. Not in our yard, at least. I’ve learned to be content with letting many of the leaves fall where they wish, as contrasted with where I intended them to end up. The air currents created by me and my Stihl have a chaotic quality to them.
Just like life. Long ago I learned from the Rolling Stones that you don’t always get what you want.
This afternoon my leaf blower taught me the same thing. I start off envisioning a pristine yard utterly devoid of leaves. After an hour or two I’m content with getting as many as possible either blasted directly into surrounding brush, or directed onto the lawn where I rake them up, put them in a large leaf bag, and scatter them on the paths that snake through our property.
In all of this I try to cultivate leaf blowing no-mind. There’s no need to think. Just do.
I used to ruminate about how unfair it was that the trees surrounding our house lost their leaves at so many different times. I’d slave away on getting one batch cleaned up while glancing up and noticing that the goddamn oaks were ferociously clinging onto their leaves, undoubtedly just to drive me crazy.
Now I don’t take it so personally. I still wish the trees would have an ecumenical conference and agree to lose their leaves simultaneously. It’d be a lot easier to get the pick-up chore completed on a single weekend, rather than stringing out the leaf work over a couple of months.
But leaves do what they have to do. I can’t control them. They fall on their own schedule, not mine. And I wouldn’t have it any other way, really.
For over the sixteen years we’ve lived in our house those leaves have become good friends. I’ve learned a lot from them. We have our ups and downs—some cold and rainy years, before I discovered the benefits of leaf blowing, I’d do a lot of cursing along with my raking.
Now, though, we’ve settled into a mature relationship. I hope it continues for a long time.
Today I realized that the deciduous trees and shrubs keep getting bigger with every passing year. Meaning, more leaves. And I get older. Meaning, less capacity to deal with the ever-increasing leaves.
Eventually. But not now. I’ve still got plenty of strength and energy to handle the annual leafy deluge. Some day, I suppose, the ascending line of leaves and the descending line of Brian’s vitality will intersect on the graph of my life.
Then I’ll have to decide how to handle the situation. Maybe we could hire a cute illegal alien young thing who likes to pick up leaves for less than minimum wage and also give massages to older men.
Or, I can buy a more powerful leaf blower. I’ve got a feeling I know which option my wife will prefer. Unless she also can cook and do laundry. Then we might have a deal.
Just so you know, 2 cycle engines are filthy. Now I also have a couple, and a hot rod, and other politically incorrect etcs, but they really are filthy engines.
Posted by: Chuck Butcher | November 10, 2006 at 12:49 AM
Sounds like your lanscape is at fault. You have 10 acres that require leaf blowing?
No one goes through and blows leaves in all the forests and wild lands around Oregon. And yet they still seem to look just fine every season. Blowing leaves is sort of like mowing lawns. A whole lot of unnecessary work caused by landscapes that are too labor intensive and unnatural.
If you really want to dump the leaf blower perhaps take a look at your landscape choices and go with a more natural design that can absorb the leaves naturally.
Myself? I just mow my leaves in place with a mulching mower on the lawn and don't bother the ones that fall in the flower beds. I blow the leaves off the patio with an electric blower but that's it.
Posted by: Kent | November 10, 2006 at 06:32 AM
I loved this post and also love my leaf blower which I have been using happily again this fall. I remember years of raking leaves and agree with you Thoreau could find beauty in this tool. It teaches you things like on the days you try to blow them against the wind and the wind thinks otherwise.
It is a satisfying job as I can see results even knowing as I look up at the huge oak trees that more is yet to be done. At one time I didn't see the need for this, thought go natural... and then had a year of muck in the driveways as they disintegrated over the winter-- not to mention most flower beds don't really like a heavy layer of oak leaves and how can the sheep eat the grass with leaves covering it (yes, wimpy, spoiled sheep). I am not quite done with it here-- looking up but the lawns, deck and driveway look great for the moment :)
Autumn afternoons, when it's just my leaf blower and me (mine is electric and a cord does limit me some), it's almost Zen with how the only thing I can think about is the leaves, how they look, where they are going, did I get them all, will the cord stretch far enough? Other problems just fall away.
Posted by: Rain | November 10, 2006 at 08:25 AM
Chuck, the Stihl backpack leaf blowers are much Greener than older blowers. Their Stihl 4-Mix engine (don't ask me what that means) reportedly is five times cleaner than the California Air Standard's emissions requirement.
See:
https://www.aqmd.gov/news1/2006/leafblowerexchangepr.html
Kent, most of our ten acres is left natural. There the leaves fall where they may. As Rain said, I've learned that it just isn't practical to let our high volume of fallen leaves sit on landscaped areas to rot.
They're unsightly, for one thing. They also tend to smother low-lying groundcover. I too use a mower to chop up relatively small amounts of leaves on the lawn.
I don't burn any leaves. So aside from the relatively small amount of gasoline/oil I burn in the blower, my method is pretty darn Green. I scatter all of the leaves back into nature, so each and every one gets recycled.
Posted by: Brian | November 10, 2006 at 07:04 PM
I was imagining blowing the leaves off a 10 acre manicured estate!
I still think Thoreau would have figured out how to live with the leaves though.
Posted by: Kent | November 10, 2006 at 07:11 PM