On this sweet quiet Saturday morning in the mountains. . . .

Come the men with mowers.

They are my part-time neighbors up the hill. Nice men. Turkey hunters mostly. They seem to miss their lawns when they're here, so bring their mowers from the city, and mow the sides and middle of our little dirt road.

Gotta love 'em.

(The above is *not* a picture of any of my neighbors, but certainly reflects the joy of certain men with mowers. . . .)