Name That Tune

I am not even sure what to say about this. This might be one of those times when the picture is worth a thousand words.

So I was biking the CCT this fine delightful morn when I came upon quite a clatter. Now for those of you following the blog you may have guessed that Santa came early this year...or maybe a little late, depending on if your glass is half empty or full. Mine is quite full thank you very much (wink Santa), but this clatter: NOT Santa.

I also looked around for Jeff, my talented Buggy Driver of Bohol who can name a leaf, tree, the chirp of a bird, or buzz of a chainsaw at the drop of a hat. Alack, alas, I was left to my own devices to identify the gas powered howl interrupting my peaceful pre-spring roll.

And there it was on the edge of the trail. A most disturbing find. I mean I had just come from a remote village where an afternoon ride could find a man in a dirt path pounding a huge rock with a smaller rock making even smaller rocks BY HAND to place in the muddy holes in the road so my bike wheel wasn't swallowed by Boholian muck. Thank you dear Sir. And can I just tell you I became a 29er fan fast?

Anyway, back here in ubercivilization....refer to picture above. That is a man with a gas powered auger...GAS. POWERED. AUGER. Cycloning holes in the mulch to plant pansies. CYCLONING. MULCH. PANSIES.

I hear pansies are tough but ARE. YOU. KIDDING. ME? Exactly how high do gas prices need to climb before you will pick up a trowel?  I mean really, I think you could do it by hand...