To be honest with you (copyright any footballer you care to think of), raking up leaves is not that hard a job. It's good for the waistline and the compost heap, and a few hours' work is a small price to pay for the pleasure we've had in the past few weeks seeing millions of trees round the country change colour.

New England is supposed to be the place to go for spectacular leaf displays in the autumn, or as Americans say, fall. I've seen the photographs and films, but can't comment on that claim from personal experience because when we went there a few years ago it was spring. Enthusiastic leaf peepers were surprised at our timing. Sounding like Robert Peston on a bad day, they said: "But it's amaaazing in the fall, we aaalways go then. Nooo one goes in spring."

We did, and I can recommend it. There are few tourists in New England in early May compared with the influx of millions in a few crowded autumn weeks of clogged roads and packed diners, and new greenery bursting alongside Vermont's quiet roads lingers in the memory.

But I do have extensive experience of leaf fall at home, and without being at all parochial or defensive – perish the thought – I think trees in autumn in the Borders and Perthshire can match anything in New England.

Now there is, I admit, the aftermath as the astonishing range of russets, golds, oranges, reds and browns have fallen and turned a uniform grey as winds sweep them into banks and drifts and heavy rain starts to turn them to mush.

In the woods and on farmland that doesn't matter, but we all know what happens round a house as the fallen leaves block drains and clog gutters, bank against flower beds, build up under shrubs, whirl through doorways and settle against walls.

There are various ways of tackling this. One is to do nothing, on the basis that eventually most will blow into the road or someone else's garden or disintegrate. That does eventually happen, but takes time and looks untidy for weeks, if not months.

Another is to use a vacuum-cleaner type machine to suck up leaves or blow them where you want them. Expensive and unnecessary as long as I've got my strength, when essentially all that is needed is a rake, the right day – sunshine, no wind – and a belief that what's doing you good physically is doing you good mentally.

Like any physical job, developing a good rhythm helps: rake, load, into the barrow, spread over the compost heap, rake, load, into the barrow…

As Voltaire more or less said, work can eventually become the greatest of pleasures, or at least fun – especially when allowing giant plastic leaf-lifting "hands" to wander a little, to the consternation of the lieges helping out, in this case Liz. I'm always amazed by her reaction speed.