Plenty more leaves on the trees

"There's naw point sweeping up them leaves lad.  More yet to fall!"

The voice came from behind me as I was filling another bin bag by the gate.  I turned round to see the old fella looking up at the trees and then back at me.  His dog was also questioning my actions with a stare.

"I know," I said. "It's just they're getting slippy."

The fact is I nearly went arse over tit earlier today as I stepped down onto the pavement.  I broke an ankle that way a few years ago and I didn't fancy hobbling around like that again.

"I'm just saying, plenty more leaves on the trees." He shrugged and continued on his way, tugging his hound to follow.  The dog looked as if it wanted rescuing, but went slowly on its way.

I looked up at the copper beech.  It was still half full of dusky leaves ready for the drop.  I didn't really mind the job, despite its futility, because it got me out the house and moving around.  My working life was one of sitting in front of a computer, or sitting in a meeting, or sitting in a car, it felt good to be outside.

"That's going to keep you busy," came another voice, and I looked up to see a neighbour from a few doors down.  She was being taken for a walk by a young dog that was straining on the lead to get going.

"Yeah, certainly will," I answered and stopped to chat, but she was gone to the pull of the young dog.

Funny how such a mundane task can bring you into contact with people you normally never see.  And also yield many comments on a job that no-one else can be arsed to do.