Bob took a long walk under duress or as he preferred to look at it some fresh air resistance exercise not involving weights otherwise know as lawn mowing. One man went to mow, went to mow a meadow, he might have sang loudly as the drone of the motor drowned out the drone of his singing.
Instead however Bb hardly noticed what he was singing or the 2 or more hours it took to make the year's maiden voyage with his trusty steed. He had other thoughts on his mind as he pushed the 0.5 donkey powered machine up the meadow and freewheeled down the other side. He was suffering from his first real case of writer's block for many years, since his last essay at university. He was looking for inspiration in the grass but all he found was buried children's toys or should that be his children's buried toys and a few well chosen stones from the ornamentalised back wall bit between it and the grass if you know what I mean, he chuckled. One even managed to break off and in bits the mulcher but thank God it still went back on again.
Eventually he finished, rested briefly, drank a 1/2 gallon of water and went back out to survey with accomplishment his endeavour, smell the fresh mulched grass and attempt to confuse the birds. he wondered what they though of his attempts to sing their various Spring heralding songs.
But he still had no idea of where to begin. As he headed indoors feeling slightly cheated, he wondered - but even his wondering was cut short by a strange high pitched whine which grew astronomically (literally) into a deafening roar like a jet engine about to crash.
And then it did. And Bob really went away with the birds. He had suddenly gleaned an entirely new perspective on the world as he hung upside down from a 97 foot fir tree with a tawny owl looking very curiously at him...
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