The Day My Leaf Blower Became Silent

story & photos by Kristianna Baird

It seems to me that our fall days have been cooler and crisper earlier in recent years. I make this observation based on the amount of leaves missing from the old maple trees in my yard.

As I sit on the front steps, the leaves fall like snow to the ground whenever the wind blows. Their red, orange, and yellow hues fill the empty space in the air between the branches and the ground. The sidewalk in front of my house is covered with leaves that form a thick fall-colored quilt. Hoping that fall will remain just a bit longer this year, I have delayed my usual leaf clean up.

The neighbors, pushing their children in fancy baby joggers, are forced to slow down through the sea of leaves. Kids walking home from school stomp or glide with their feet as if they were skating on a path of ice. As I have done in the weeks after Halloween every year for countless years, I get out the rake and the leaf blower and prepare to remove the signs of autumn from my yard.

This year I start first with the rake. I rake the leaves over the soaked grass leaving countless maple-seed 'helicopters' lying about, clinging tightly to the crevices in the tall grass. Knowing that I will have to deal with the thousands of springtime seedlings now implanted in the front yard, my frustration grows.

As the sun sets, I decide that I really just need to take care of all these leaves before the sky grows completely dark. Quickly I grab the leaf blower and unwind 100 feet of extension cord. Many years ago when I purchased this leaf blower, I firmly believed that a quieter, more environmentally friendly, electric leaf blower was the way to go.

But after hitting the power switch, the sounds echo through the quiet neighborhood like that of a screaming air raid siren. I stand in the yard staring in disbelief at the contraption I hold in my hand. Startled, I quickly shut the deafening machine off.

A lone car cruises by sending leaves whooshing into the air. When it passes, the street is once again silent. As I stand, peering at the waves of leaves, I contemplate whether the blower had always been this loud. The sky darkens, and my good conscience gives in. As I fire up the air blowing beast again, my head fills with noise, "WAAAAAAAAA."

Within 3 minutes I forcibly jab the power button, rip the extension cord from its socket, and toss the blower into the grass. Staring across the leafy waves, I snatch up the rake and work quickly with a renewed energy. It is now dark. I can tell by the puffs of my breath that the temperature has dropped.

Raking feverishly, wearing just a long sleeve shirt and jeans, I am aware of the inherent warmth of my body. Time is no longer of importance since it is already dark, I am warm, and I no longer have to worry about the sound of a leaf blower disturbing my neighbors this evening. As I near the final edges of my yard, I make a conscious decision to leave a corner of leaves as a reminder of fall. This way I can watch as they compost into the flower beds rather than in my backyard compost bin.

As I do every year, I clear the leaves that have fallen from my trees from my neighbor's driveway. Though it is dark, I know she is having dinner at about this time. I smile at the thought of being able to give my neighborhood an evening free from noise pollution. Maybe tomorrow I'll place an ad in the classifieds: "Free to good home: Electric leaf blower, earplugs not included."*