With desert duty done, a return to house, home, and freshly cut green grass. Bob’s overseas endeavors generally allowed his Woodview lawn the overgrowth of non-violational neglect...

The younger Bob had treasured his chores and none more than the mechanized mission provided by the mower. He was always meticulous to the wheel line. No better groundskeeper anywhere in the San Joaquin valley. With mowing, Bob could be king of his own domain, and no domain ever had such a fine moment as that when the fragrance of fresh cut grass filled its air. On these occasions, he enjoyed the splendor of its focus facilitated by following the streetlight-shadowed edges as they caught lines luminescing levels between what he'd mowed and would mow.