Generally I enjoy mowing the lawn. In fact, I mow my own lawn, plus I mow my parents' lawn just for the fun of it. This time of year, mowing the grass leaves me feeling very guilty.
At my parents' house in particular, there are hundreds, if not thousands, of little crickets hopping around the backyard. When I mow the lawn, they are bouncing all over the place. I hate mowing over those little critters, but it really is unavoidable. I did hesitate when I encountered a little frog and a mature grasshopper. They barely escaped with their lives and they probably would not have been so lucky if another person was behind that scary machine.
When I see those little crickets frantically hopping to save their precious lives, I try to send them telepathic messages to hop on over to the newly mowed portion. Since that part of the lawn was just cut, it's a safe bet that the lawn mower will not pass that way again. Alas, they don't seem to get it and continue jumping into the longer unmowed sections; the sections I am about to cut with the twirling blade of terror. If I happen to spot one or two hopping to the already mowed areas, I will pause and let them hop on over, but most go for the longer blades of grass.
When all is said and done, I have visions of the crickets settling down to dinner around their cricket TVs watching their cricket evening news with the devastating bulletin about the deaths of so many of their kind from this not-so-natural disaster. Forgive me crickets of the world. I really am sorry.
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