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The Raking Season

I enjoy raking autumn leaves. Love it, to be precise. I like the rustle of the leaves, the scraping of the rake, the scrunching beneath my feet, and the crinkling as I shove them into a box or bag.

I don’t rake up all the leaves. I’m not Mama, I tell the Husband. She had raked and picked up leaves nearly every day that she lived in her house, about 28 years. I’ve seen her pull drying leaves off the fruit trees. Be ahead of the game, I suppose. She would definitely shudder if she saw how unkempt both the front and back yards are. 

Leaves, leaves, hello, leaves. Yep, I was that kid who loved to stomp through leaves. 

P.S. Here are a couple of stories about Mama and l-e-a-v-e-s.

Mama and the Leaves 

Don’t Take My Picture 


  1. I heard that some insects winter in left behind leaves and such, so not having a pristine yard is probably for the best. Perfection is overrated.

    1. I’m raking just enough so the earwigs don’t feel completely at home, multiply, and take over the yard. If they kept the ants from coming inside the house, I’d let the earwigs live out there.


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Thanks for the good cheer. :-)

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