On my way to the storage shed I pass our honeysuckle bush. There was one in the back yard of my child hood home. The boughs swept into the lawn like the crest of a wave leaving a curved hollow cave just boy sized. I loved to hide there and pull the flowers inner string to release the sweet drop of nectar within. I fill the mower with gas with little enthusiasm. It had quit running at the end of last years mowing season, but I hoped It would just work long enough to keep the neighbors from revolting in reaction to my sloth. To my chagrin it roars to life. Perhaps it was just tired in October. I let the self propelled front wheel drive help drag the machine towards the front yard where I traditionally start this effort. When I reach the deck I turn to look behind me and stop in my tracks. Laughing out loud. The mower has merely temporarily pushed the "Daisies" over and they stand tall once more. The violets have only been topped and countless purple and blue flowers lay in the swath where I have just passed. It seems that a 250 pound man with a 6 horsepower rotary knife can only claim limited dominion over the beautiful things that yield and persist.I am so Happy.