When I was a kid, I remember the smell of leaves burning as vividly as any photograph of fall scenery. You could walk along and kick piles of them and watch as they floated back to ground. I could even rake them up for the neighbors and make enough to get something at the Five & Dime.
Nowadays, the Five & Dime's history and there are books of ordinances requiring homeowners to ensconce their leaves in sanitary plastic for pickup at the curb. There are laws against burning leaves, and future generations won't have that olfactory memory around Halloween time.
I wonder when some enterprising new-ager will come up with a way to compress a dry leaf into a little pellet and market it as incense or potpourri for yoga moms to meditate over while they enjoy a soothing latte in the sauna. Maybe burning-leaf car fresheners will be the vogue in a few years, or eau de Leaf cologne (his and her flavors, of course).
I have surely lived in a golden age, and am thankful when my neighbors out in the country burn leaves in the fall. They don't have to, mind you, but I have a hunch they do it just because they can.
I'll post a photo here when I get one.
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