Wednesday 22 April 2015

Grass and Seed Keys


Just a quick one today if that is alright with you.

I have always loved going for walks in the woods. I’ve loved going for walks in nature of any kind, be it woods, mountains or fields. There is something primal when you get into a wilderness of sorts. Most cities have overgrown areas that are easy to get to and provide that important natural high. Perhaps it has something to do with where we all came from and is somehow wired into our DNA. I just know that it is comforting and relaxing to be out in the wild. Not in the dark, that’s another story entirely.

Today, I had to tend my own little bit of nature. I needed to cut parts of it (still pretty early here), rake all of those irritating tree seed  thingies from the Ash tree that seem to have choked my front lawn and I used the last of my fertilizer. I figured that by cutting it and following it up with fertilizer all of the blades would have a level playing field for growth. I have never been a fan of raking the lawn and the only reason I did it today was to get rid of the bulk of those flying seed keys. Most people around here (the ones that care) rake their lawns to rid it of dead grass that accumulated over the past year. I think its called thatch.
I don’t remember my dad ever raking his lawn and it grew all too well. I have a vague memory of his burning the lawn in the early spring, but that might have been at the cottage. Incidentally, burning the dead grass away is wonderful for new growth. Personally, I don’t see a big difference between raked yards and unraked yards and for many years I kept track of the lawns on my letter carrier walk. The only thing it does is to make the people raking the lawn feel that they have made a difference. They haven’t, but it makes them feel good.
 

I think it would be pretty cool just to let all of the lawns go back to nature, patches of grass here and there, a cluster of dandelions over there, some weathered wood in the corner covered in moss, a small pile of leaves decomposing in a corner and the odd beautiful little wildflower dropped there by some passing bird. That would be a perfect yard, and no cutting, raking or fertilizing. 
Maybe in another life…

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