Every time I walk past our yucca trees in the front yard, I think about falling in, face first. Let’s say I’m walking in the yard, not paying attention, and I trip over some discarded beer can that a nice passer-by has casually tossed in the (lawn) grass. I fall face first into the yucca trees. Thanks, but don’t hand me a mirror. A thousand stitches won’t look pretty. Makes me want to dig them up. The points of the yucca’s sword-shaped leaves are has hard and pointy as any saber. Falling into a yucca tree, or trees, as is ...