Black Dot Diary

It’s autumn and that means it’s time for my annual rant about the gas-​powered leaf blower.

I really, truly do not under­stand why these things exist. They churn out smoke and fumes. They spoil the silence of a Sun­day morn­ing. From my point of view, they are not even all that effec­tive: I could rake the leaves in less time than it takes the guy down the street to make sure every speck of tree detri­tus is blown into a neat lit­tle pile (which the wind then blows around again anyway).

Jazzie the Bas­set Hound waits mourn­fully for a morsel.

Two years ago I was cir­cum­nav­i­gat­ing the Island of Mag­giore in Italy, fol­low­ing the same path walked by St. Fran­cis to his sea­side grotto on the shores of Lake Trasi­meno, the liq­uid jewel of Umbria.

Accord­ing to leg­ends, in 1211 a local fish­er­man gave St. Fran­cis a fish but Fran­cis, ever the lover of ani­mals, threw it back. The fish grate­fully fol­lowed St. Fran­cis around the lake until the saint bestowed on it a spe­cial bless­ing. St. Fran­cis became known as the patron saint of ani­mals (and later of ecology).