Guilty pleasures

There's something about mowing the grass that I love. Truthfully, many things. The smell of cut grass and spring onions and fresh air, for instance. The visible progress from high to low, in clear swaths, and the contrast with areas of day lilies, daffodils, hyacinths, and so forth. The traditional Southerner's appreciation for land, the land I steward in this lifetime. The satisfaction of a job well done.