When our azalea died a few years ago, we replaced it with a Japanese maple.
Its leaves didn’t start turning until a few weeks ago, when all the other trees were pretty much done.
I had forgotten how brilliant they are.
Instead of scrolling through the news this weeks, I tried to spend a few extra minutes watching the leaves.
It was a luxury.
This weekend, I did the final pre-winter cleanup in the garden, which meant transplanting the toad lilies, cutting down a few of the perennials, and sweeping the leaves. I didn’t cover the table and fountain with a tarp because I hate looking at the tarp and because the temperatures aren’t forecast to drop below freezing in the near future. Three cheers for climate change 🙁
In the past, I’ve made a bigger production out of the leaves. I used to pick them out of the garden beds by hand — like one or two at a time, dropping them into a bucket — which was a slow but rewarding process if you have compulsive tendencies. Then we bought a leaf blower, which was violent but also satisfying, and finally a leaf mulcher, which was exciting at first. For a few years, I felt very suburban.
But this year, I read several articles about how it’s better to just let the leaves be. It creates less yard waste (obv) and allows beneficial ecosystems to thrive under the leaves. I wondered if the articles I once read about moldy leaves ruining gardens had been planted (‘planted’) by a consortium of leaf-disposal industries. If so, add it to the list of ways we’ve all been manipulated by corporate greed in the neoliberal era.
Sweeping leaves from a path is the perfect amount of work, I realized. It’s not too arduous, but it’s not trivial, either. I didn’t miss the leaf blower/mulcher combination. Will the garden suffer? I doubt it.
Life is noisy enough.
It’s nice to feel hopeful about something.
