Last Sunday after church and a nice leisurely breakfast, Kathy and I sat down to read the Sunday paper. Ned was on his tower asleep. Molly took off to her secret place to get some rest for herself. All was right with the world.
Suddenly it started. At first I thought I was hearing things…a buzz in the distance. Then it got louder and I knew, the lawn mower brigade has begun. One neighbor starts. Another joins in and then a third starts. It’s a game to see who gets their grass cut first and makes every other yard look unkempt. Lawn wars have started.
Then there is me. I refuse to be drawn into this battle much to my neighbor’s chagrin. Some of them mow their lawns twice a week. I wait until I feel it needs to be cut or if I know a cat can get lost in the grass.
It is not that I don’t like cutting the grass, I do. It is mindless and you can see what you have accomplished when you finish. The thing is, I hate mowing down flowers. My yard is full of such pretty yellow flowers that over time become white and fluffy and get carried on the wind. I know that my neighbors are jealous because their yard doesn’t have as many pretty yellow flowers as mind.
I know that they put their heads together and wonder how I can cultivate such a bountiful flower garden with seemingly so little work. I can see in their eyes that they want to ask me how I do it. There really is no secret…it’s just a talent. I know, maybe some night I will go out, dig up a few of my pretty yellow flowers and secretly plant them in my neighbor’s yard. They would be surprised and thrilled to see that their yards look just as colorful as mine.
While I’m at it I might also share some brown patches with them. These, I feel, add character to a yard. Think of the fun people can have talking about what they see in the brown patches. It would be just like seeing animals in the clouds but they wouldn’t have to strain their necks looking up to the sky.
Wait, what is Kathy saying? Lowe’s is having a sale on Scott’s lawn products. They have weed and feed. They have grass seed. I guess the season of yard work has begun. I can’t help but think of my neighbor’s disappointment if my pretty yellow flowers disappear.