Finding A Honey Hole

Sometime last week I heard the sound of chainsaws coming from up across the street.

It turned out that a neighbor across the street and a few houses up decided to pretty much decimate their front yard and rid it of about a dozen pines trees.

A few days later, the same tree-removing company was seen next door tackling a few more pines in the yard of a neighbor next to the original house.

Then a day later, another house - one who already recently had some (shitty) tree work done - enlisted the help of this same company.

As I was driving up the street, I saw one of my neighbors. Max is an older, retired man who is often seen walking the block with his cane and hat and Harvard sweatshirt. I rolled down my window and spoke to him.

"Max," I said, "seems like those guys hit the jackpot on this street."

"Found themselves a honey hole," he said with a smile.

Today, I noticed that the tree guys had moved on to yet another house.

Honey hole indeed.