Whrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr. The sound is low and throaty and loud. It is full of vibrato. It penetrates my walls. It is one of my neighbors blowing leaves again. This is the fourth weekend in a row!
It’s not that I don’t want to be a good neighbor. I do. I appreciate his dedication to task. But doesn’t he realize leaf blowing now is like peeing in the ocean?
At the moment leaves are drizzling. A few weeks from now they’ll be pouring off the trees. Think lemmings jumping of a cliff. The extra little bit he’d leave by not blowing today wouldn’t even be noticed!
Is this my sentence for the next month, listening to this leaf blower’s leaf blower? When’s sunset?