The earth laughs in flowers.”
—RALPH WALDO EMERSON, American essayist, lecturer, philosopher, and poet
The earth may laugh in flowers, but my mimosa tree is snort-chuckling her snotty pink puffballs all over my yard. Even the hydrangeas are waving their white flowers in surrender as if to say, enough already—we know the stage is yours now—you’re just being obnoxious!
It’s 9 a.m and I’m leaf-blowing the yard even though the gardener arrives at 2 p.m. to do the same. I just feel bad that my gardener will arrive on a Friday afternoon, the last account of the day and soon to be free for his weekend revelry, only to find my yard snot-teepeed. He’ll probably wish he’d never taken my account.
The mimosa tree’s brouhaha pushed me past my tolerance and forced me to spew noise pollution from the blower into the delightful summer morning. The kind where you’d like to sit under the gazebo, sip coffee potion from your favorite mug, and listen to soft Spanish guitar riffs while the birds play musical chairs at the bird feeder.