As I returned to the island one morning last week, I saw a sign warning of upcoming road works and just beyond that, Glynn County construction workers were pounding and sawing the offensive myrtles.

We can thank County Commissioner Cap Fendig, who explained on his Facebook page that myrtle embellishment has become a safety hazard.

“This blind spot created by the row of hurdles is responsible for many bad collisions from behind,” he said.

It was indeed the case. Drivers rushing to work on the northern end of the island had more than once stepped into the rear bumpers of cars they had seen too late. Also, sometimes the drivers took hard lefts to avoid hitting stopped cars which put them in the myrtles or sometimes in the pocket swamp. Not that I’m complaining about cars flattening myrtles.

When I inquired about the reason for the plantings in 2016, Kathryn Downs, who was the county spokesperson at the time, explained, “They were planted as part of a beautification project.”

It was expensive, but part of the funding came from a grant, I think, and it’s hard to find a government that will refuse the grants. That’s why all but one of the schools in Glynn County have Title I, I guess.

Some of the myrtles were already dying, but the contractor, who I’m sure was well paid, had to replace them. I said then that I hoped they were all dead, and I made most of my wish.

The myrtles blocked the view of the swamp where you could see wading egrets and red-winged blackbirds perched on the swamp grass, all laid out as God had intended.

Now we have some restored views. We can see the swamp and the cars in front of us.

By the way, the county said it had to get permission from the Natural Resources Department to cut the bushes. I don’t remember anybody saying you have to get permission to plant them. Someone should have said “no”

And here’s another good thing that’s going on, but I have mixed feelings.

Chip Bergh, CEO of Levi Strauss, says skinny jeans are on the way out, as consumers are buying looser styles.

I recently told someone how we sometimes look at old photos and laaauughh.

“This one from me in my leisure suit.” Oh look. Here’s one in a denim suit I bought to wear on Easter Sunday in 1978. “

The pants were flared, the cuffs were as wide as the smile of a used car salesman, and my tie was the size of an ironing board.

I predicted we would laugh our hindquarters at how people looked in jeans and skinny pants, especially adult males wearing these things with bandaged legs. I think these were originally designed for toddlers maybe to catch anything that was missing from a diaper, but maybe not.

Bergh said the skinny jeans trend lasted 10 years. Damn. You can get a 4-year university degree in 10 years.

A fashion writer for Forbes also noted that skinny jeans were on the verge of disappearing, and she noted the boot cut, patchwork, and puffy trend of the 1990s. Who knew my patchwork suspenders from my childhood would one day be fashionable, but at the time it was the result of being poor.

And I wore boot cut jeans, but I also wore boots. As for loose fits, I don’t wear them because all jeans look loose on my skinny legs, and as a lot of men can get older, I don’t have a discernible butt.

Glad to see skinny jeans go away because some people wore them that shouldn’t have but didn’t realize it. It’s not their fault, however, because a store clerk lied, “You look good in these.” (Coming soon to an opinion page near you, a letter to the editor about my vicious bodily shame.)

Either way, relax with your next pair of jeans, but don’t feel too comfortable with them.

Like denim, fashion trends tend to fade.

When the time comes, I’ll be looking for the regular Wrangler fit to my size, a personal trend that has lasted for about 50 years.

Spring is clearly here, and the weather will be fine until the unbearable heat arrives, but I don’t particularly like the fall of the living oak leaves. When they fall, gasoline-powered sand sheet blowers work overtime although they disturb the peace all year round. You are wondering, however, how all of those leaves end up in storm sewers, but I digress.

If Piotr Ilyich Tchaichovsky were alive and writing a symphony called “Printemps à Saint-Simons”, he would probably put leaf blowers in it as he put cannon and musket fire in the “1812 opening”.

I hate the sound although it’s better than a state of the union speech, the sound of a group of New York Yankees fans celebrating a World Series win, a drunk groomsman at a reception wedding or the pitch of a donkey.

I’ll stick to an electric fan. But believe it or not, there used to be this thing called a rake …

Either way, enjoy spring while it’s here and take in the restored view of the swamp.