Autumn leaves

My Dad had a philosophy about fallen leaves. "God put them there. Let God take them away."

My Grandmother, whose house we shared, had a different philosophy: "God put them there so YOU can take them away."

As a result each autumn my father raked huge piles of leaves from our side and back yards, adding to them fallen pine branches from our grove in front of the house.

He must have loved my brother and I very much to let us jump in them and throw them in the air, meaning a second raking was required before burning, because burning was still legal then. Or maybe he had some vengeance in mind because we came away from our rollick with pine pitch on our hands that my mother dabbed with nail polish remover.

I don't do big piles. I do little piles and anyone who jumped in them might not be a good investment for a life insurance policy, and a very good investment for the recipient of that policy.

Bending and my back are not friends so I use the dustpan with the long handle to transfer the leaves to the trash bin.

I know as soon as my back (bent or not) is turned the oak tree which is so lovely in the summer will malicious laugh and shed a few more leaves just as when I finished today a wind decided to play throw and catch with the ones I'd missed.

I don't claim have done much but the driveway is now acorn free.

The tree in the photo produces enough acorns to feed the entire squirrel population not just of Corsier, but also the communes of Collonge, Anniers and Hermance. Those squirrels in turn could invite friends and family from Veigy, France just over the border, and there would still be leftovers.

I just looked out the window. More acorns-- no squirrels. On Facebook I found a photo of this

dog running and jumping in leaves. Sorry, I couldn't find URL, but any creature this happy makes my day.