October leaves crackled across the road, driven by a chill autumn wind. Nick Winslow angled his four-by-four through yet another roadside pile of leaves. They exploded aloft like dervishes in his Bronco's slipstream. Whooping like a teen-aged boy on spring break in Fort Lauderdale, he watched the results of this minor vandalism in his rearview mirror. Leaves swirled down, re-cluttering the yard that had been so meticulously cleared of them. More...