He and his wife live three doors down in this amazing house.
All week long everyone else is visited by crews of Central Americans that mow, clip and blow (leaves) for hours. Their bulky trucks block our narrow streets.
Leaf Blower Thursday is the worst. That's when most of them descend to blast leaves from one yard to the next. Their two-cycle sound is deafening. I spend most of the day -when I'm home- wearing ear protectors. Really.
Roland rakes. When we pass by he stops to smile and wave. He then resumes quietly stroking the ground. Our neighbor told us, "It makes me happy".
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Note: Francesca and I fall into a third "Let It Be" category. While we do pick up the occasional fallen palm frond, we let our plants grow and our leaves lying where God intended them to rot.
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