I Mow, You Chop

It took me a while to figure out the meaning of the words written on this crude handmade machete hanging on the sign.

It was almost dinner time and I was blipless. Cynthia suggested that I take my camera with me when I went to pick up the mail -- she thought I might find a blip subject between our house and the mailbox at the end of the street, but I had to go further.

I walked up the hill and found this at the beginning of the trail where we used to walk our dogs -- alas, no longer with us. It looks as if someone has been mowing the grass on the lower portion of the trail and is inviting other trail users to cut back encroaching vegetation higher up.

I walked further, smelling the decaying leaves and mildewed blackberries marking the onset of fall. This time of year always makes me a little melancholy. Summer always ends too soon for my liking, and my birthday this month marks the passing of another year of my life. I remind myself that it's been a good year, and a good life, and I'm grateful.