Of Leaves and Drains

Sort of a screed but also a fine way to help

Clearly autumn is here! Crows tossing acorns into roads in the hopes of getting them crushed by mobile nutcrackers. Samaras whirlygigging down on a flight path governed by the intersection of gravity and wind. Douglas fir needles keeping me in shape and outside by forcing me to sweep the backyard regularly. Resplendent colors of ginkgos and ashes and tuliptrees and maples illustrating the beauty of tranquil senescence. I do like this time of year.

Vine maples, fire scarred ridge (using camera mode that only picks up certain colors), and the view from the Northgate Light Rail station

Whether the cause is drought or the heat dome or unseasonally cold days, this year seems especially colorful. One favorite sighting was on a fire-charred ridge near Roslyn, where the colors spilled down a gully in an explosion of reds and rusts. On many streets and in most parks in Seattle, a flavorful palate of colors—butter, lemon, merlot, persimmon, pumpkin, and tangerine—brighten even the most dour, overcast day. If you are interested in tracking the fall foliage, check out this darned cool prediction map.

Another aspect I like about fall and the leaves changing and dropping is that it reveals a hidden world, that of nests. While hiking recently, we came across a small, handsome home of woven branches, most likely of a robin. Another time, a nest of spider webs, leaves, feathers, and furs dangled about two feet long; near the top was an opening, just right for the bushtits who lived there. We also regularly see crows nests and squirrels nests high in trees, where they had been safe and unseen by predators and humans for months. Although I know that these birds and mammals share our spaces, it’s fun to see where they live, sort of like getting an open house tour when a neighbor puts their home on the market.

But like many I have an autumnal problem: Leaf blowers. They rank up there with some of my least favorite inventions of the 20th century. Not only are leaf blowers noisy and polluting (electric ones are less of both but still annoying), but they seem to confuse people. One should use them in order to contain debris, not to blow it out of one’s yard into the street or a neighbor’s yard, neither action of which is neighborly nor ecologically a good idea. I certainly know that there are far worse problems in the world to worry and complain about but this seems to be one that could be easily fixed, at least on a personal level; get a rake and broom and deposit your detritus appropriately. No training required, and in Seattle, SPU offers free extra yard waste pick up in November. Go on give it a try.

For those of you who would like to take a bit of action yourself on this issue of leaves in the gutter, here’s something else you can do, which I just learned about. Adopt a Drain is a program that encourages people to befriend their local drain and keep it clean. Not only can you name your drain (favorites include Hermione Drainger, Sir Drains A lot, Midnight Drain to Georgia, Drainasaurus, and Singing in the Drain), but you can get a rather sporty yard sign to help encourage your neighbors to befriend their own drain and reduce the debris entering the sewer system.

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Readers Respond: “[I am] intrigued by the bird and mammal species with lives and ranges that are largely dependent on different species of oak. Of course an obvious one is the acorn woodpecker that adjusts its entire life cycle and habits around the Calif. species of oak.” Several years ago I was fortunate to see these woodpeckers and tree stumps crammed with acorns, which the birds were regularly rearranging. I have noticed more and more acorns on the ground around town. Yay.

An acorn woodpecker at work.

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November 3 - 6pm - I will be in conversation with my friend Knute Berger. We’ll be chatting about Homewaters. Sponsored by the University Bookstore.