Boiling Springs lawn mowing, 7.3.16

Dear Molly, Dad used to let the lawn get tall, almost shoulder eight on your preK body and then mow it haphazardly in long swaths like paths through a prairie. You would follow him, hanging back and imagining that he and the lawn mower were one creature – a dragon? a beastie of some kind that you were tracking and hunting through the landscape, following its path like a master tracker, ducking into the tall grass to hide when he turned to mow the next irregular path.

Published by Molly Cairney

Making stuff since 1982.

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