Riddle

I come in many different colors

I get pushed to the curb by the wind or usually by the people who pick me up

I’m usually a pain to get rid of but I can be nice to look at

I change as the seasons go and sometimes I’m not even around when it’s cold

Some people make me into a decoration; others put me into a land fill

People hear me stroll by and usually don’t think twice

In the summer I’m usually everywhere you look but in the winter I’m usually under the snow

If I hit you in the face it won’t hurt at all but if you drop a garbage can of me on your foot that probably would

Some People call me a nuisance because they have to clean me up but others think I add scenery.