Tools are cool - old ones, I mean. These are sheep shears belonging to Harold Sweetman, who heads up Jenkins Arboretum in Devon but grew up on a farm in Colorado. His grandfather raised sheep and his father, an entomologist, grew small cash crops and ran a plant nursery, greenhouse, and florist business before taking a job at Scott Arboretum in Swarthmore. Ultimately, he became Jenkins' first director. Harold recalls using these sheep shears to clip grass when he was a kid. That memory, and the simple, utilitarian beauty, of these old implements helps explain the reverence old tools often elicit. I think of things like this on summer Saturdays, when I'm awakened by the roar of weed wackers and gasoline-powered lawn mowers, and in autumn, when humans wielding leaf-blowers are out in force. (This is a city neighborhood with have small yards and sidewalks. I can only imagine the din in the 'burbs.) Harold talks about well-made tools designed to do one thing very well. Like the old shovel in my garage. It has a with a weathered, wooden handle, thick old blade and Y handle. My guess is it's been left in the garage through a succession of owners that led to us. One family lived here for more than half a century; there followed two owners interested only in flipping the house. Till it got to us. (We're not flippers.) Guess when we go, we should leave it, like everyone else, in the garage and hope that the next family will take the time to appreciate it.