Raking and Editing-- Both Have Endless Potential

November 10, 2025

There was a lot of raking around here this weekend. We have a lot of trees, all of which are beautiful and provide a lot of privacy in the summer when their canopy hides us from even our closest neighbors. But, in the fall, after they’ve turned their gorgeous colors, all of those trees drop all of their leaves, and it feels like we rake non-stop for a month or so.

The first time or two I actually rather enjoy raking. Yesterday it wasn’t particularly warm, but it was sunny and the air was fall-crisp, so I soaked it in. Neighbors were doing the same, and the leaf pile on the court grew to astronomical proportions. In the past, all those leaves provided endless entertainment for our kids. They’d launch themselves into the pile over and over, bury themselves and then pop out in sheer ecstasy, and were convinced the dog was “magic” because she could always find the ball no matter where it was tossed in the leaves.

Our kids have moved on, and new kids have moved in, and yesterday, they too were wallowing in nature’s confetti with the exact same abandon. That made me so happy.

But now, it’s a grey Monday. As I look out the second floor window and see both the mammoth leaf pile and a yard that looks like it has never been raked, I’m not quite as chipper. And there are still a lot to come down. It feels like a never-ending task right now.

I knew this leaf fall would happen—it’s the height of autumn and that’s what autumn does— and I also knew I’d get frustrated with it, so last night, I told Mark we should wait a few weeks before raking again and then do one more big clean up. Then he’ll most likely call it good, and I’ll most likely do one final rake in December just to try to get the stragglers.

It’s kind of like editing. You can do it non-stop. There’s never an end to editing, never a point when the pinnacle of perfection is achieved. Even great writers almost to a one say once their masterpieces came out, they found oodles of things they’d change if given the opportunity. Yet we read those same things, the things they say they’d  change, and we don’t see a mistake. We see the masterpiece. You have to call it quits at some point. Figuring out the quitting point, that’s the tricky part.

I don’t know the answer to that question. I do know I often use perfection as a shield. If I get it absolutely right, get the yard absolutely free of leaves, everyone will be happy. But, there’s never a time everyone is happy. Even with yards. I was just reading a piece by that encouraged no raking for the health of the environment. I kind of thought that sounded pretty good. No raking! Even better, not because I was lazy but for the environment!

The key is that I have to be happy with what I’ve produced, whether or not the neighbors approve of the yard or whether my words are published. That’s my quitting point. I can be sad if the neighbors don’t like my yard or if my story isn’t published, while still satisfied with my effort—in the yard or with my words. So I’ll likely rake that final time in December because I like having a relatively leaf-free yard, and I’ll generally edit an extra time too, because that’s who I am. As long as I’m the one making the quitting point call when I know I did my best.