Every Thursday our next-door neighbor hires a worker to use a leaf blower. This infernal machine drives me nuts. Rather than letting a pet peeve render me literally insane, I’ve decided to explore the leaf blower’s deeper significance. A psychologist might call this writing therapy. Maybe the result can also provide a little relief for you, the reader, if you share my irritation. The most obvious critique of the leaf blower is that it’s an obnoxious, destructive piece of machinery.
Everyone—human or non-human—feels on edge when that ugly noise starts up. We’re using noisy, polluting machines to do things that, in many cases, we really shouldn’t be doing in the first place. At the same time, leaf blowers emit toxic pollution. The blower’s two-stroke engine drinks a combustible mix of oil and gas, but a typical leaf blower burns just two-thirds of its fuel, spewing the rest into the air.