“Just a bit more.” The long steel bar slid past the flat metal blades.
“Now swing on it.” As two sets of hands pulled, but nothing moved.
“All your weight, lads.”
Four more hands jumped on and the crowbar creaked until it gave way, toppling them to the ground.
He nodded, stroking his beard. “There now, them baby finches will get a good seed-feed for a few more days until they can fly proper. Then the old man can return to his mowing routine,” and led his gnome troop from the garden shed to disappear within the shield of shadows.
(100 words. Photo’s mine.)