I refer to the squad of commercial cutting, mowing, whacking, blowing machines that I damn, as they shriek, roar, and whine over the grass in the adjoining yards. These are city lots, so how big do you think they are? There are five men commanding the machines! The deafening noise is punctuated by the occasional shrill tweet of whistles the men use to signal to each other. How ludicrous it seems. Anyway, they seem determined and I'm sure they will beat that lawn into submission. When they are done, they will go away and once again we'll be able to hear the birds chirping and our own thoughts taking shape in our minds.
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