At an unsteady clip
31 July 2013 § 2 Comments
I just—snippets of grass cling yet to my legs yet—finished a rite of passage (or of something): using the string clipper. After scoffing at the power of two silly strings to tame an overgrown hedge, I discovered that they can actually cut rocks. String clippers needed for quarry venture? String clippers as violent weapons? This lawnish beast, akin to some sort of mostly-ossified snake of gigantic proportions, retains yet a lethal ability. It launched otherwise innocent pieces of lawn at my legs, stinging my skin and engendering definite dislike. It is my fault, or that of flailing inexperience, that the garden boasts bald patches and uneven clipping. The affair would have passed without incident until, nearing the end of my verdant serpentine violent path, I unearthed (ungrassed?) a tortoise hiding in a tiny gully. (String clippers as animal control?) I didn’t lift it out and luckily did not pulverise its shell, nor even touch it, and I hope it’s alive. It may have crawled into the hollow to die, an old and wizened creature, wise enough or sad enough to distance itself from its tortoise-community (if such a thing exists) and end its days peacefully. Under the bellicose caterwauling of the string clipper.