I don’t remember if it was high school or college, but there was a short, dark haired teacher in front of the room, and he was talking about tomatoes. In the days when all tomatoes were vine ripened, when all were either homegrown or sold by farmers, the perfect tomato was red. It was round, and large. Unblemished. Perfect.
That was back when all tomatoes tasted good. Red meant ripe. Then came shipping. Tomatoes could be eaten far from the source, and out of the local season. Tomatoes were picked early, and gassed to make them red. They were bred for firmness, to withstand the rigors of shipping. And of course, all were round, unblemished. That, after all, was the epitome of a tomato. Unfortunately, taste was sacrificed. Now, when we want the perfect tomato, we grow it, or buy it from a farmer. We bring it in from the garden, still warm from the sun, and cut off any places the birds have pecked or wet leaves caused a little rot. And the taste? Perfect.
Look at a picture of the perfect lawn. Imagine the uniform green, evenly cut, covering the rolling landscape around a house. Looks peaceful, doesn’t it? Perhaps, one time, it was. Maybe in a wet climate, with not too much sun, keeping it short and lush. Ireland, or maybe Seattle. On that rare sunny day, that carpet of green must have been a sight to behold. Peaceful, inviting. Soft on bare feet.
Now we have lawns everywhere. They still make nice pictures, until you turn up the sound. Power mowers. Weed whackers, for the OCD perfect edges. Hedge trimmers. And those horrible leaf blowers, letting everyone within a quarter mile know that we are moving dead grass off the sidewalk, or cleaning the driveway of fallen pine needles. People spend hours stalking weeds with poisons. They put down fertilizers, install sprinklers, wash all those fertilizers into the world around them. Yikes!
So yes, it looks peaceful, only it isn’t. I suspect there is a whole generation who will never remember the hot stillness of a summer day. Heat will always be accompanied by a distant (or not so distant ) whine, and herbicides and pesticides pollute nearby waterways in the quest for a perfect lawn.
So can we have perfect lawns and a harmonious life? Sure, as long as the perfect lawn has dandelions decorating it. Honeysuckle creeps in at the edges. Dead leaves feritlize it. It is a safe place for children to lie on their backs and see shapes in the clouds, while pets frolic nearby, and it feels nice on bare feet.
Like the tomatoes, all that needs to change is our minds.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
2 comments:
There are so many organic and safe alternatives to the chemicals that we use. And you are right-will our kids ever know the beauty of a lawn without the hum in the background? (excellent turn of a sentence, by the way)
Who in the world know what damage we have inflicted on our water supply, our bodies, the air?
Great post--can you tell I agree with you?
Nina, as usual, you're right on the mark with this blog. Why can't everyone see the truth here? I admit, I've looked at some of my neighbor's lawns, and I've been jealous... they spend so much time and money on that damned green grass, though, that I wonder what else they've sacrificed? It's become an obsession with some of my neighbors and some of my friends, and it's so pointless. I see them blowing their grass clippings and their leaves out into the street (and sometimes it looks like, back at each other!) and I laugh. Sure, their lawns look great: sculpted, manicured, brilliant, even... but the street in front of their Better Homes and Gardens-like house is littered with leaves, dead grass, and sand!
I admit, I'm "different." I have a dirt driveway, no lawn to speak of (St. Augustine won't grow under so much tree cover), and I've had the same mower since the late 70's... the thing won't die! (The self-propulsion cables snapped years ago, I've got a clamp holding the idle on high, and the wheels are so wobbly I have to check them every few minutes to make sure they've stayed locked in the same set of height holes. I've only added oil once in all these years, never changed it, and it starts every time I pull the twice-replaced frayed old rope!)
I'm not your average 'lawn guy'... I just don't see the point!
Thank you, Nina, for taking us beneath the artificial beauty of the "Yard of the Month" and showing us a little of what we're losing in our quest for perfection. I know my kids recognize the fresh smell and texture of natural ground cover, and I'm sure yours do, too!
It's a good thing.
Post a Comment