the ozone layer be damned
As the screen door shut, you rushed into the crisp charcoaled scented air testing out your new favorite sweatshirt. The light blue sky seemed all the brighter holding up those giant cotton ball clouds and white airplane streaks. Oak and maple lined streets in the neighborhood provided a canopy of color that immediately let you know it was October. Before any football or bike riding occurred, the seasonal chore must be completed which brought a smile to your face. For unlike the grass or snow, leaves didn't much seem like a chore but rather a neighborhood block party. Fathers and kids from all around, spreading out giant bed sheets and pieces of tarp which would hold leaves of all shapes, sizes and colors all the while the football game playing loudly over the am radio. The kids would giggle and scream as they each got to grab a corner and run to the middle capturing the leaves for their upcoming trip; the long power slide to the curb. It never failed, just as the kids started to lose their strength and interest, the magic happened. As the dads all up and down the street lit their piles, the snap and crackle of the leaves and twigs were almost drown out by the laughter and amazement of the kids watching. As we look back now, it might seem shocking, but if it brought as much joy to kids in other towns as much as it did in mine, then the ozone layer be damned.
As the screen door shut, you rushed into the crisp charcoaled scented air testing out your new favorite sweatshirt. The light blue sky seemed all the brighter holding up those giant cotton ball clouds and white airplane streaks. Oak and maple lined streets in the neighborhood provided a canopy of color that immediately let you know it was October. Before any football or bike riding occurred, the seasonal chore must be completed which brought a smile to your face. For unlike the grass or snow, leaves didn't much seem like a chore but rather a neighborhood block party. Fathers and kids from all around, spreading out giant bed sheets and pieces of tarp which would hold leaves of all shapes, sizes and colors all the while the football game playing loudly over the am radio. The kids would giggle and scream as they each got to grab a corner and run to the middle capturing the leaves for their upcoming trip; the long power slide to the curb. It never failed, just as the kids started to lose their strength and interest, the magic happened. As the dads all up and down the street lit their piles, the snap and crackle of the leaves and twigs were almost drown out by the laughter and amazement of the kids watching. As we look back now, it might seem shocking, but if it brought as much joy to kids in other towns as much as it did in mine, then the ozone layer be damned.
VIEW 8 of 8 COMMENTS
Yep. We have a burnpile back home. We burn all the deadfall and leaves from the trees. I like the smell of wood burning. From a safe distance of course.
I hate the redneck cock-holsters who burn their trash. You can't open your windows or hang clothes out because of them.
Anyway. I haven't worked on the movie in quite a while. Doing too much manual labor. How's your book coming along?