They ran out the door ahead of me while I was still trying to find my rain boots. There was a break in the August downpour as the dark sky cleared up just long enough for us to take a "puddle walk" around the lake. The neighborhood was lush and wet and the air was thick with humidity. It was much needed rain after a long dry spell and the streets were steaming.
Fresh rivers of water were still gushing past. No sidewalks here. The troughs on the street sides were flowing into the storm sewers, small waterfalls flowing into the giant underground pipes that would empty directly into the neighborhood lake. EVERYTHING ends up in the lake.
As we walked away from our house and down the street, we spotted the first "death grass." I had to remind my girls to "stay away from those puddles! Do you see the sign? It says that poison was sprayed on this lawn and children and pets should stay away." It's sad that an innocent puddle walk around my neighborhood turns into a game of dodge the toxic waste water from the neighbor's lawn. We ended up weaving back and forth across the street to avoid this house with the little white signs and that house with the little green signs. The chemical sprays had been freshly applied that day from the big green tank truck. Great timing guys! Nice job. Just before the monsoon.
My lawn looks a little different than my neighbors' lawns. We have clover, plantain, violets, dandelions... and all the bees on the block. The butterflies and moths are attracted to our yard as well, floating from flower to flower, enjoying the nectar. I have a natural lawn. Or should I call it a regular lawn? A diverse, plant filled yard? A non-toxic lot? My yard is...alive?
I'm bewildered by the obsession for the perfect lawn. I've come to view those perfect lawns as ugly and down right offensive. Further, the local lawn companies are ripping people off by telling them that they need 6-8 applications of lawn fertilizers, weed killer and pesticides per season. And people just continue to buy in to the fantasy, fattening Mr. Green Truck's wallet. They buy in to the American lawn nightmare.
I believe we need to rethink the perfect lawn. I think my lawn is perfect, weeds and all. We made jelly from the dandelions this year. We ate the violets in our salads. I have the plantain leaves in a glass jar full of oil on my window sill right now, infusing in the warm sunlight so we can experiment making a bee sting salve with it.
I'll end this with a little quote by Michael Pollan from his book Second Nature, A Gardener's Education: "Time as we know it doesn't exist in the lawn, since grass never dies or is allowed to flower and set seed. Lawns are nature purged of sex or death. No wonder Americans like them so much."
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