Recently, a visitor commented on the height of my lawn. “Isn’t it about time to get it mowed,” she said. “What are you waiting for? We cut our grass once a week so it looks nice.”
“What’s the hurry?” I argue back, but I know the choir isn’t backing me up on this one so I just smile and we drift off onto another subject that we can more or less agree on.
The winter was long, even for down here in the South, and the early spring, wet and turbulent. For many of us, gardens have been delayed until the earth has had time to dry and the danger of flooding subsides. Bursts of pink and yellow and white blossoms have emerged from their winter’s nap proclaiming loudly that Persephone has returned from the underworld to join her mother and the time has come for us to dig and plant and hopefully, eventually harvest.
Maybe I feel that I get an early peek at what spring will be like. When the sun is just coming up, I can look out the window and see dots of white clover covering the ground. Soon, after the sun has had a chance to spread across the yard, the dandelions’ petals open and stretch out. A well-manicured lawn cannot compare to the sea of yellow and white flora waving in the breeze. The landscape is ever-changing; a different view can be had by just a slight turn of the head. At nightfall, when the sun has journeyed over the yard and begins to set, the dandelion petals will fold and wait for the darkness to pass, and then get ready for the next show.
Another positive argument in favor of my degree of lawn care is that the clover brings neighbors over to enjoy the fresh bounty. One of the cows from the pasture next to me has found a way past the fence and gate and crosses over the dirt road to feast on the gourmet salad bar my property provides. She is a frequent enough visitor that Shelby doesn’t bark at her but merely sits on the deck, watching.
Last evening the cow we named Clover was escorted onto a cattle trailer along with a dozen or so of her bovine friends and traveled down the dirt road to her next adventure. Today the young man, who cuts my lawn, rode across that same dirt road and transformed my yard into a more “respectable” lawn where only the green grass is visible.
I know not to worry. The cycle of life is spinning as always, renewing each and every living thing. It won’t take long before the clover springs back and the yellow dandelions spread across the landscape. It may not be acceptable in today’s norm, but it sure is pretty. What a dull world it would be if everything was neat and perfect and the dots of white and dashes of yellow disappeared forever.
I do hope that when the new herd of cattle has settled in the pasture at least one of them learns Clover’s secret escape route.
Sharon 