Tag: fall

Rash of leaf blower thefts reported

Investigators arrested a man they believe is responsible for a rash of leaf blower thefts in this normally crime-free neighborhood of Paw Paw, Michigan.

Reports of the thefts first emerged a couple weeks ago when homeowners went to undertake the annual ritual of removing fallen leaves from their lawns only to discover that the leaf blowers were missing from their garages. 

After weeks of investigation, detectives zeroed in on a man who had been making a number of disparaging comments about leaf blowers in neighborhood Facebook groups.

Joseph Brickman, age 62 of Paw Paw, wrote in one thread that the sound of leaf blowers “wheezing throughout the neighborhood” was driving him crazy and that he intended “to do something about it.”  However, no one paid any attention to Mr. Brickman because no one ever paid any attention to Mr. Brickman. 

Brickman commented that the near constant noise of 2-stroke engines revving was like “living next to a go-kart track.”  He also compared the sound to a moose call and complained that he worked nights and couldn’t get any sleep during the day as a  “cacophony of lonely moose” made it impossible for him to get any peace.

Investigators became even more suspicious of Brickman when they observed him silently using a rake to gather his leaves into piles.  After questioning Brickman, he allowed them to search his garage where they discovered dozens of leaf blowers stashed under a tarp.  Brickman explained that he’d acquired the devices over the years, but they all “broke down because they’re pieces of junk.”  

Eventually, authorities were able to trace the leaf blowers back to their owners and now the decibel level in the neighborhood has returned to normal. 

Slow explosions

I’m standing in my backyard while a torrent of orange and yellow leaves drift down all around me and pile up at my feet.  The scene is reminiscent of that moment at the end of a political convention when the nominee accepts their party’s nomination and a gusher of confetti and balloons is loosed from the hall’s rafters while the crowd goes nuts and Fleetwood Mac sings “Don’t stop thinking about tomorrow.”  Only no one’s cheering and I’m not pretending to point at people in the crowd and act surprised to see them.  Actually, I do point at a squirrel and give him a thumbs up.  

A wise man named Tomberg once described an acorn as a “constructive atomic bomb.”  The oak itself is “the result of the slow explosion or the blossoming out of this ‘bomb.’”  If that’s the case, then I’m standing beneath a mushroom cloud.  This particular explosion came not from an acorn, but one of those helicopter seedlings that flew its mission generations ago, and detonated in this spot where the “slow explosion” of this mighty maple tree has been ongoing for, most likely, in excess of a century.  

The fallout continues.  Orange and yellow splotches combine with red from another explosion nearby to overwhelm the gray sky.  These are creative explosions.  Through the years, the maple I’m standing beneath has been home to quite a number of squirrels and a few woodpeckers.  It’s like a multi-family high rise.  Earlier this year, I discovered dozens of small bundles of twigs and leaves scattered about beneath the tree.  These were not dead parts that had broken away and fallen to the ground.  Some creature, undoubtedly engaged in a major renovation project, had cut away these leafy twigs to make room high in the canopy for its expanding living space.

Despite the hours of work ahead of me, for which at this moment Fleetwood Mac should be erupting in song and my family should be rhythmically clapping along in appreciation, it’s hard not to become disoriented in the brilliant twisting colors and the gentle murmuring of the wind.  When the moment pulls you away from yourself and surrounds you with its grace and beauty, everything’s ecstatic.  In this instant, I am a slow, silent explosion, imperceptibly unfolding. 

And then the mournful wail of a distant leaf blower breaks in and obliterates the moment.  Cursed leaf blower!  Then it’s just me, my rake, my tarp and quite a mess to clean up.