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Sycthe Silence

I bought a scythe for Christmas, or more precisely, one handle and two blades from The Scythe Shop, a great example of an artisan-run business, delivered by someone with a passion for their craft.

It's never made sense to cut the paths and meadows in front of the house with a petrok-driven, noisy, two stroke strimmer that's so dangerous to use that I need to wear goggles, boots and ear defenders.

Every 15 minutes, I stop to sharpen the blade of the Austrian scythe with a wet stone carried on my belt, to keep the edge keen. It gives me a chance to stretch and rest awhile too, noticing the ground under my feet.

I wouldn't want to see armies of people cutting the prairies by hand, but for gardens, sharp steel and the swing of an arm seems to take some beating

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