one last flower

Ah, November in Cleveland. The sun's up there, but you can't see it. People at school are already complaining about depression. The sun'll come out soon enough, like March or April, but I digress.
Friends, are you woken up by over zealous suburbanites blowing their leaves? The sound of leaf blowers, gas and electric, are ever present in our neighborhood. Leaf collecting must be highly addicting. People can't stop till they get that last leaf off the yard. Then, the wind picks up and everything starts over again. We just mow the snot out of the leaves or rake them into the pac. We seem to be the only folks in the neighborhood that mow leaves, so I half expect the yard police to roll up when I'm mowing.