Thursday 7 April 2016

The Joy of a lawn.


Autumn Abstract.

Yesterday I spent most of my morning  the three lawns I now have around my home. It all takes time, and after the wet weather there is so much moss. I have treated these lawns and pulled off so much dead moss that it looks as if there is very little grass left to grow. I often wonder about the wisdom of all this work to have a nice green lawn. "Who actually pays any attention?"  I ask. As for those few little daises and dandelions, "Are they really so bad?"

This reminded me of the story of the discussion between God and  St Francis. If I remember it correctly it went something like this.

GOD:
"Francis, you know all about gardens and nature. What in the world is going on down there on the planet? What happened to the dandelions, violets, daises and stuff I started eons ago? 
I had a perfect no-maintenance garden plan. Those plants grow in any type of soil, withstand drought and multiply with abandon. The nectar from the long-lasting blossoms attracts butterflies, honey bees and flocks of songbirds. I expected to see a vast garden of colours by now. 
But, all I see are these green rectangles."
ST. FRANCIS:
"It's the tribes that settled there, Lord. 
The Suburbanites. 
They started calling your flowers 'weeds' and went to great lengths to kill them and replace them with grass."
GOD:
"Grass? But, it's so boring. It's not colourful  It doesn't attract butterflies, birds and bees; only grubs and worms. 
It's sensitive to temperatures. Do these Suburbanites really want all that grass growing there?"
ST. FRANCIS:
"Apparently so, Lord. They go to great pains to grow it and keep it green. They begin each spring by fertilising grass and poisoning any other plant that crops up in the lawn."
GOD:
"The spring rains and warm weather probably make grass grow really fast. That must make the Suburbanites happy."
ST. FRANCIS:
"Apparently not, Lord. As soon as it grows a little, they cut it-sometimes twice a week."
GOD:
"They cut it? 
Do they then bale it like hay?"
ST. FRANCIS:
"Not exactly, Lord. Most of them rake it up and put it in bags."
GOD:
"They bag it? Why? 
Is it a cash crop? 
Do they sell it?"
ST. FRANCIS:
"No, Sir, just the opposite. They bin it to throw it away."
GOD:
"Now, let me get this straight. They fertilise grass so it will grow. And, when it does grow, they cut it off and bin it to throw it away?"
ST. FRANCIS:
"Yes, Sir."
GOD:
"These Suburbanites must be relieved in the summer when we cut back on the rain and turn up the heat. That surely slows the growth and saves them a lot of work."
ST. FRANCIS:
"You aren't going to believe this, Lord. When the grass stops growing so fast, they drag out hoses and pay water rates to water it, so they can continue to mow it and bin it to get rid of it."
GOD:
"What nonsense. 
At least they kept some of the trees. That was a sheer stroke of genius, if I do say so myself. 
The trees grow leaves in the spring to provide beauty and shade in the summer. I
n the autumn, they fall to the ground and form a natural blanket to keep moisture in the soil and protect the trees and bushes. It's a natural cycle of life."
ST. FRANCIS:
"You better sit down, Lord. 
The Suburbanites have drawn a new circle. As soon as the leaves fall, they rake them into great piles and bin them to have them hauled away."
GOD:
"No!? 
What do they do to protect the shrub and tree roots in the winter to keep the soil moist and loose?"
ST. FRANCIS:
"After throwing away the leaves, they go out and buy something which they call mulch. 
They haul it home and spread it around in place of the leaves."
GOD:
"And where do they get this mulch?"
ST. FRANCIS:
"They cut down trees and grind them up to make the mulch."
GOD:
"Enough! I don't want to think about this anymore. 
St. Catherine, you're in charge of the arts. What movie have you scheduled for us tonight?"
ST. CATHERINE: 
"'Dumb and Dumber', Lord. It's a story about...."
GOD:
"Never mind, I think I just heard the whole story from St. Francis"

So I better enjoy these lawns I have after all put a lot of effort into them. As I look out of the window right now, " Is that a daisy I see?"

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