The wind is brisk this day of October 9, 2012. Leaves scurry and blow across the front yard. Rob mows the lawn short so as not to hinder the wind as it helps him accomplish his goal of green grass, free of brown oak leaves. I smile.
When the wind dies, the leaves will once again take up their rightful place at the bottom of the three grand oaks which grace and guard our country home. Rob is not dissuaded. The steady hum of the mower sounds strong and determined like the man. I smile.
The lawn used to be my domain. Rob was too busy to be bothered with a patch of grass. Too much to do on a busy farm. Now the patch of grass and Rob have bonded. Rob is as determined as the leaves are bountiful. I smile.