Ink & Penstemon

A couple of weeks ago, my daughter arrived home from school, rushing in to warn me that people were out raking up my leaves. Riding my ecological high-horse, I stomped outside and confronted a middle-aged woman and a 12-year-old boy. I asked them pointedly if they were raking up the leaves. With deer-in-headlight eyes they sheepishly said they were doing a service project. Annoyed at their ignorance in sending a lot of valuable humus to the dump, I told them in sharp tones that I don’t rake, that the leaves were there for a reason, and to please stop and to leave the bags they had raked up behind. They said “sorry.” I promptly went back inside.

I was annoyed. People shouldn’t be raking up leaves, especially mine. They should be walking around with mulcher mowers spreading that humus around and keeping our soils viable and healthy. I even called my husband to gripe about these people’s ignorance and to complain in general about altruistic, but counterproductive service efforts. 

After the phone call, I was still riding this wave of self-righteous pride, so I went back outside, picked up the bag they had raked full of leaves, and dumped its contents onto a front flower bed in defiance as they worked in the yard across the street.

Then I felt it: a twinge of guilt. These people, a mother and son, were providing community service on their own time to try help beautify the neighborhood as best as they knew how, and there I was, being an eco-jerk about it. So I crossed the street and duly apologized for being a crank. I did my best to explain away my leaf-hoarding; how I use the leaves like fertilizer on my lawn, acknowledging that consequently, my yard must look a bit messy. I went on to say that it wasn’t their fault as they didn’t realize I wanted the leaves there, and that I appreciated their generous efforts. The son seemed more forgiving than his mother, who, still feeling a bit protective of her son around the crazy woman, brusquely shrugged it off.

This experience now rests on that shelf in my memory I reserve for ignominious episodes that are educationally invaluable, but were gained at the cost of offending someone irreparably. So I pass this wisdom onto you gardeners who seek to spread the gospel of organic and other earth-friendly approaches to horticulture: In our stumping for people to stop wastefully irrigating lawns, dumping fertilizers excessively, and spraying pesticides over everything that moves, we should remember to not place these priorities ahead of intra-personal relationships. Nothing turns people away from a good idea than when it’s delivered with an air of pugnacious superiority. So what if someone comes and rakes up your leaves and hauls them away? The trees will make more. Yes, lawn mowers are terrible polluters of noise and emissions. So go over and offer your neighbor a drink. Get to know him; be friendly. Tell him about how you prefer your new-fangled push reel mower; offer your neighbor the chance to borrow it. Who knows, he may even end up getting one of his own.