Rake of Defiance

We took a break on Tuesday afternoon to rake the office lawn. About half of the leaves from the maple out front had fallen by then, and, with rain and wind in the forecast, the rest would soon follow. But the curled yellow leaves were dry that day and easy enough to move into a pile at the curb. Here in the village, crews still go around in the fall with a big truck to vacuum them up.

At this time of year, someone from Guild Hall steps outside most mornings with a leaf blower, its grating sound coming across Main Street and through our old single-pane windows. No such racket from us, we declared! Our rake made a pleasing scritch on the sidewalk as we moved our growing heap. When we were done, a few leaves that had gotten through the tines remained on the grass. This was fine with us, a sign that we had made a stand with our rake of defiance.