Nature's Attack

It wasn’t really my job to mow the grass anymore, but the green blades were growing out of control with all the rain we had endured, and I just couldn’t take it any longer. So I hopped on the riding lawn mower and set out to enjoy the beauty around me, in hopes to take the monotony out of the dreaded chore itself. But, nature does not always pacify us with pleasure, but can be rather annoying when it attacks without warning, by way of a giant green locust.
As I started my rotations around and around the rocky, irregular hillside in my backyard, I was destined to accomplish this chore and return to my air-conditioned house. It was almost 100 degrees outside, and I quickly became too hot and bored with the whole scenario. Because it had been a very long time since I had sat behind the wheel of that lawn mover, I had forgotten how much it truly vibrated every part of my being. Any part of my body that was not tightly secured jiggled freely to the motion of the ride. My arms grew tired and heavy, fighting the tough steering wheel, and I was shaking to my very core, while enduring this fitful motion. The sweat was pooling under my thighs on that hot, sticky vinyl seat, as I cornered the south fence line. With a sharp turn of the wheel, my legs nearly slid right off the sweat-filled seat, making it nearly impossible for me to stay put and to finish the task at hand. If it wasn’t for the beauty around me to take in, the heat from the blazing sun and the aggravation of holding onto that vibrating steering wheel, I could not have completed the job set before me.
The scenery was quite pastoral, in spite of the disturbing ride. To the south of our acreage is an aged, time-worn red barn, surrounded by gentle rolling grasslands, dotted with large, old red oak trees. Grazing peacefully shy and quite picturesque-like are about twenty sheep, not counting the young, snow white lambs, with their coal black faces, still nursing on their mothers. Towards the west, is a vast sprawling meadow, separated by a meandering, spring-fed creek, that leads into the lake farther south. Just beyond the creek is a boulder and tree covered hillside, where dogwoods and redbuds break forth into a pallet of white and purple come springtime. Brilliant white-barked sycamores and stunning maples perform a grand finale come fall. An occasional deer or two will bound quickly out of sight, or any number of rabbits can be seen disappearing into the blackberry bushes. It doesn’t take much for me to get lost in the splendor of the whole place. While gazing out beyond the barn, looking to the lake, I was jolted back into reality, when the front right tire landed abruptly into a rocky hole and then bounced its way back up into the designated path. With a heavy sigh I wiped my clammy brow and continued on.
I really needed to get my mind off of this duty at hand, so I started to sing. I did not hold back at all where volume was concerned. I belted out every line and chorus to one of my favorite worship songs, with all the fervor and feeling of a famous opera singer. Mouth wide open, pronouncing each word with clarity, as if I were trying out for the Brooklyn Tabernacle Choir, my voice rang out to all the sheep, which had long since, stood at attention from the bothersome roar of the small engine I was directing. It was momentarily a nice thought, to think that I held such command with my magnificently articulate tones. But, if I couldn’t even hear myself singing over the agitated sound, surely, none of the sheep could hear me either. None-the-less, I continued as if God Himself stopped everything He was doing, just to lend His ear to me. (Which He probably did.) My mouth was opened wide, finishing the last stanza of my song, when a huge, and I mean huge, green winged locust flew directly into my mouth! My reflexes caused me to immediately hit the brake and I hacked and choked until it’s large, beating wings came flying out of my mouth. Gross! I sat stunned for a moment trying to grasp what had just taken place. It seemed I was the only one out of sync. All my surroundings were exactly as they were just a moment before, except for me and the three inch, wing-span locust. A locust! Do you realize how big a locust is? Does that say something for just how huge my mouth must be? Or was God trying to tell me something? Oh wait a minute. I know. It was a sign. That’s it, a sign. I was never suppose to be on that riding lawn mower in the first place.
Regaining my composure for my audience of sheep, and feeling a bit shaken, I came to the sad fact, that someone with such songs of grandeur should never have to hold such a lowly state, as on the sticky, old seat of a lawn mower. Although more disturbing than that is the reality that nature can, indeed, come out of her peaceful setting and hit me right in the mouth when I least suspected it, by way of an enormous green locust. As much as I love being outside, I do believe I will leave my boisterous melodies in the safe confines of my morning shower.