This morning, long before the sun peeked over the gargantuan pines lining the front yard, I went outside with my camera. (I’m trying to be a good blogger and take pictures as often as I can. So far, I’d give myself a D minus.) What the hell can I shoot today? I wondered. The yard is the yard is the yard. Trees, grass, shrubs. The broken-down Adirondack chair that neither The One nor I have the heart to bring to the dump. The lichen-covered hammock. As I was about to turn on my very cold heels, I heard it. The grass crunching. Kind of the way Momma Leite’s heavily shellacked beehive crunches right after Noreen does her hair on Thursdays.