The neighbors are leveling the pool again. Fourth time, by my count. At this point, it is less of a backyard pool and more of a public works project with chlorine dreams. Somewhere, a spirit level is crying into a toolbox.

This round includes a skid steer, because apparently we have moved past shovels, rakes, and hope. Nothing says relaxing summer fun like heavy equipment chewing up the yard so an above-ground pool can maybe sit straight for longer than a gas station hot dog.

I respect the commitment, in the same way I respect people who reboot a frozen computer seventeen times and call it troubleshooting. The dirt has been moved. The ground has been judged. The pool has once again been promised a stable future, which feels optimistic, bordering on adorable.

The Fourth of July is coming, and while some people prepare with fireworks and cookouts, this neighborhood is apparently celebrating with excavation. Freedom, flags, and a skid steer fighting gravity in somebody’s yard. Truly, the republic endures.