Raking Leaves

Sigrid sighed and paused in their work. It was a crisp and bright fall day, the kind that anyone would hope for. The leaves, which a few weeks ago had been all shades of vibrant orange and yellow, were now dry and brown, and lay scattered across the ground, collecting in nooks and crannies and blowing into ditches. 

There certainly weren’t many trees, the ones that did grow here in the outskirts of Sermos were hardy and scratchy, half-tamed things that had been too stubborn to die. That said, there were more of them now than just a few years ago, thanks to the hard work of Paralogos like themself.

That’s why they worked so diligently now. They’d rather be curled up with a blanket and a reading tablet inside, but as of late, they’d gained more of an appreciation for finding hygge out of doors. There was indeed something meditative and important about what they were doing now. With a sweep of their arm, they brandished the rake that they had been leaning on, and got back to raking the thin scattering of leaves.

“Can I play in this one?” Someone asked, suddenly, making Sigrid jump.

“Lowe! Don’t sneak up on me like that,” Sigrid wheezed, halfway to reflexively whacking the other Logos with the rake. They lowered their arms. Lowe and Sebastián were home from university on fall break, while Miriam and Em had opted to stay behind volunteering. The normally subdued musical Paralogos was full of chatter, apparently bored at being back in the quiet subdivision. “I told you, I need these.”

“For what? Are you sure I can’t just do one good jump? It’s not like I’m gonna break ‘em,” Lowe said, a little petulantly. 

Sigrid considered this. “Alright. You can play in the leaves. If you help me rake them up again afterwards,” they clarified.

Lowe looked aghast. “Would you look at the time? My, uh, stream is on,” they said, looking down at their wrist (which did not have a watch). “Catch ya later Sigs.” With that, they scurried back inside.

Sigrid rolled their eyes, more amused than exasperated, and got back to work. Not too long after, they had around three decent piles, and the yard was clean, save for a few leaves they had left out to provide some fall ambiance. 

Satisfied, Sigrid grabbed an armful of as many leaves as they could, carefully, almost reverently. In times past, apparently, humans used to collect leaves and throw them out just for the crime of being on their lawns and throw them out, which they considered rather a waste. Instead, they crept furtively behind their modest house to where a nondescript bin sat. What was inside was one of their better kept secrets - didn’t want other residents poking around, so they usually had it slightly hidden with yard debris.

A musty but not unpleasant odor emanated from the bin, the smell of damp earth and carefully cultivated rot. They added their leaves to the top of the pile, shredding them where they could, arranging the pile so that air could still flow. Deep within and around the bin, which was perforated with holes that lead into the ground, was Sigrid’s prized possession - genuine earthworms, not long into their winter estivation following the fall’s first frosts. 

The decomposing leaves would feed them for months come the spring, and in turn, Sigrid would take the composted detritus and use it to feed their small garden. They closed the bin and leaned the rake against the outside wall, stretching their sore arms. All it took was a little care and a bit of forethought, and maybe, just maybe, they could make something great grow, in time.