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Ah, the sounds of bound are everywhere. The whoosh of a backyard watering-pot, the purring motor of a lawn mower, the sneezes brought on by emerging rose-color and white blossoms, and the knock-bump-knock of the bass from the car stopped next to you at the red medium of vision.
Frankly, as a someone who suffers from SAD (seasonal affective want of order), I’ll take ‘em all. Lay open up the windows and let the sun give light in, is my motto. But sometimes that’s easier reported than done. There’s our cosmos-famous “dairy air” as well as my latest pet peeve: Leaf blowers.
There’s nothing more annoying than palm and fingers-washing and drying my car on a The christian sabbath evening, and then having it blasted with dust and debris from all the leaf blowers that seem to startle up at the same time the following sunrise. Better yet, even though it’s the opening of the work week, you’re having a profitable hair day and driving to operate with the windows down, listening to your beloved Miley Cyrus canzonet on the radio. But tarry! What’s that up onward! Is it heavy building? Is it a freak Central Bottom sand hurricane? No! It’s a leaf blower! Sprightly, roll up the windows (make acknowledgments to goodness for the electric kinds) and glisten at the offender as you proceed by. So much for the good humor.
In preparation for today’s blog, I did some scrutiny at the one University of Google. It’s an portentous place, and they’ll take fair much anyone. Anyhoo, it seems that the riddle with leaf blowers — at least according to universal school documents — is the sound pollution, not the occurrence that dust is swollen liberally into the air.
But what’s wrongful with a broom and dustpan? I be assured of, I know, it can’t get your driveway as neat as the blower can. There’s always that minute bit of debris that equitable refuses to be swept up, no body how diligent you are. But at least I’m care MY dust in MY compound! I’m not destructive it up and then covering...

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