Seymour people love their lawns. They take care of them with tenderness they don't always show their children. They seed them, water them, mow them, water them, fertilize them, mow them, re-seed them, attack weeds, attack bugs, mow them, water them, and so it goes all summer.
When the lawn is pristine, they tell their children not to walk on it. When they want to spend time outside, they set their lawn chairs firmly on the driveway, avoiding putting a foot imprint on the grass. If the driveway has been newly surfaced, the chairs go just inside the garage. Why they go outside at all is a mystery.
Sitting outside has nothing to do with nature, as far as I can figure. A few years ago, we had a spectacular sunset, a real Gone With the Wind, Scarlett O'Hara, I'll Never Be Hungry Again extravaganza. It was probably related to a volcanic eruptions somewhere. I went as fast as I could to the Rock Ledge Park hill to watch it in all its glory. I passed a woman sitting on her lawn chair on her driveway, facing away from the sunset.
"Look at that sunset," I called out to her.
She looked over her shoulder and turned back. "Oh, that means bad weather, doesn't it." (It doesn't.)
Tonight, as I walked toward the park, I passed a couple sitting on chairs on a lawn, with no mind of the imprint they might leave on the grass, watching the setting sun. I stopped in astonishment.
"You aren't from Seymour," I said.
They weren't.
Lawns can be lawns with plants that are not grass. It's better to play in a non-chemical lawn anyway. Kids can roll and play bocce ball and have all kinds of fun that way.
ReplyDeleteI love our weedy lawn. It's still green with all its creeping charlie.
Susan