Winterize Your Lawn

Editor's Note: This interesting little piece of wisdom from an anonymous writer reminded me that sometime in the late eighties I wrote a short article called "Why We Hate Dandelions" for a small California magazine.  It asked the question, "Who convinced us that the dandelion is an enemy so fearsome that chemical warfare is necessary?" and predicted that future generations would slap their knees and burst into great guffaws when they reflected on  how we wasted vast amounts of energy and resources growing grass so we could mow it and haul it in plastic bags to our bulging dumps.

 A few years later, when our city government caught on that wanton waste and destruction were becoming botanically incorrect and launched its ambitious "Don't Bag It" program though which it  started giving citizens awards for going to the lawn and garden store to purchase a mulcherizer and a thacherizer and whatever else was necessary to save the environment by not bagging lawn clippings, I wrote a snappy letter to the Denton Record-Chronicle (which didn't get published, as I recall)  pointing out that I,  for years,  had been not only not bagging it, but that I had also been not planting it, not watering it, not fertilizing it, not trimming it, not edging it,  not mowing it, and not raking it and that so far no one had yet given me an award for any of this.  In fact, the only thing I got for it was an occasional threat from the City Lawn Nazi, which is what I call the guy we taxpayers support so he can write us an occasional letter threatening prosecution if we don't mow it, water it,  edge it, fertilize it, and bag it.  

With this in mind, imagine my delight at learning from "Winterize Your Lawn" that the Almighty Himself is on my side.--Gene Franks. 

 

"Winterize your lawn," the big sign outside the garden store commanded. I've fed it, watered it, mowed it, raked it and watched a lot of it die anyway. Now I'm supposed to winterize it? I hope it's too late. Grass lawns have to be the stupidest thing we've come up with outside of thong swimsuits! We constantly battle dandelions, Queen Anne's lace, thistle, violets, chicory and clover that thrive naturally, so we can grow grass that must be nursed through an annual four-step chemical dependency.

Imagine the conversation The Creator might have with St. Francis about this:

"Frank,  you know all about gardens and nature. What in the world is going on down there in the Midwest? What happened to the dandelions, violets, thistle and stuff I started eons ago? I had a perfect, no-maintenance garden plan. Those plants grow in any type of soil, withstand drought and multiply with abandon. The nectar from the long-lasting blossoms attracted butterflies, honey bees and flocks of songbirds. I expected to see a vast garden of colors by now. But all I see are these green rectangles."

"It's the tribes that settled there, Lord. The Suburbanites. They started calling your flowers 'weeds' and went to great extent to kill them and replace them with grass."

"Grass? But it's so boring. It's not colorful. It doesn't attract butterflies, birds and bees, only grubs and sod worms. It's temperamental with temperatures. Do these Suburbanites really want all that grass growing there?"

"Apparently so, Lord. They go to great pains to grow it and keep it green. They begin each spring by fertilizing grass and poisoning any other plant that crops up in the lawn."

"The spring rains and cool weather probably make grass grow really fast. That must make the Suburbanites happy."

"Apparently not, Lord. As soon as it grows a little, they cut it--sometimes twice a week."

"They cut it? Do they then bale it like hay?"

"Not exactly, Lord.  Most of them rake it up and put it in bags."

"They bag it? Why? Is it a cash crop? Do they sell it?"

"No, sir. Just the opposite. They pay to throw it away."

"Now let me get this straight. They fertilize grass so it will grow. And when it does grow, they cut it off and pay to throw it away?"

"Yes, sir."

"These Suburbanites must be relieved in the summer when we cut back on the rain and turn up the heat. That surely slows the growth and saves them a lot of work."

"You aren't going believe this,  Lord. When the grass stops growing so fast, they drag out hoses and pay more money to water it so they can continue to mow it and pay to get rid of it."

"What nonsense! At least they kept some of the trees. That was a sheer stroke of genius, if I do say so myself. The trees grow leaves in the spring to provide beauty and shade in the summer. In the autumn they fall to the ground and form a natural blanket to keep moisture in the soil and protect the trees and bushes. Plus, as they rot, the leaves form compost to enhance the soil. It's a natural circle of life."

"You better sit down, Lord. The Suburbanites have drawn a new circle. As soon as the leaves fall, they rake them into great piles and have them hauled away."

"No! What do they do to protect the shrub and tree roots in the winter and keep the soil moist and loose?"

"After throwing away your leaves, they go out and buy something they call mulch. They haul it home and spread it around in place of the leaves."

"And where do they get this mulch?"

"They cut down trees and grind them up."

"Enough! I don't want to think about this anymore. Saint Catherine, you're in charge of the arts. What movie have you scheduled for us tonight?"

"Dumb and Dumber, Lord. It's a real stupid movie about..."

"Never mind.  I think I just heard the whole story."