Leaves, Then and Now

     Mike and I spent the weekend raking, blowing, and mowing leaves.  When the township posts the signs, the residents scurry to get the leaves to the curb.
     We didn't move our leaves to the street when I was a kid.  In fact, we hardly even raked them. My father chopped them up with the lawn mower, so they would decompose and feed the lawn. When we did rake, we threw the leaves on the garden.  Then Dad fired up the rototiller and plowed them into the soil.  Sometimes though, he threw a match into that leaf pile and stood by to watch it burn.  He said ashes were good for gardens.
     Methods change, but I doubt things have gotten better.  Some people say burning produces no more pollutants than the engine on your lawn mower or the engines on the trucks that suck up the spent foliage.  Some people say piling leaves up at the curb and composting big heaps of them produces mold spores that are just as irritating as engine emissions.  Some people say the cleaning up of autumn's droppings is best left to homeowners.  They'll do it for free.  The salaries and equipment needed for municipal pick up is a budget buster.  This person says same problem, different day.  I'm for keeping things tidy and taking advantage of the services for which my tax dollars paid.  I'm against people starting fires in my vicinity.
     I'm also against jumping into big piles of leaves.  I tried it as a kid.  The crispy things crumble, go down your collar, and scratch all the way to the waistband of your pants.  Once, when I was about twelve years old (probably the most modest time of life), wallowing in leaves lead to a yellow jacket going up my pants leg.  Multiple bee stings ensued.  I hopped around yelling, and my mother commanded, "Take your pants off."  I chose to suffer a few more stings while I beat at my leg.
     Do kids still play in leaves?  I have my doubts since most of them are out playing soccer or puffing on asthma inhalers.  These days the leaf pile belongs to the family dog.  Check it out.