Mixed Media Nature Writing

Can you guess by subject?

Blowing in the breeze

Always doing as we please

I can make you sneeze

I only come green

A colorful carpeting

Softly comforting

Turf or sod or lawn

So Many varieties

We can all play ball

Neither here nor there

Growing almost everywhere

Except in my yard

Staining my knees green

What fun to lay in the sun

Then hearing Mom scream

I never understood why Les spent countless hours grooming, fertilizing, massaging, and talking to his grass. Is it not the simplest most mundane of all plant life? Does it not naturally sprout from the ground wherever and whenever it pleases. What is this preferential treatment he gives his lawn over all over flora? Segregating our property with his more visually pleasing garden of grass. In places like Arizona we foolishly waste thousands of gallons of water just to paint the deserts green. And for what, so Richey Rich can play through a par 4? In Alaska our precious grass is buried beneath a beautiful layer of white wonder. Snow blankets the ground the majority of the year, why then invest so much time and energy into perfecting this organism just to contrast the white with green for merely a few months of the year. Death to the sod, cover the world with gravel. Crushed rock is so much more resilient to the wear and tear of everyday life.

Oh how I love to walk barefoot in the grass. To feel its suppleness under my feet. Providing a free blanket to lay and waste the day. Life flourishing throughout its microscopic jungles. Zoom in and see every blade flutter in the lightest of breeze. Zoom out and watch it unfold upon the surface of the Earth. On a hot summer day it cools the air. There are so many shapes and sizes. Kentucky blue grass, buffalo blend, perennial rye, tall or fine fescue, and Bermuda grass. All varieties covering my yard, protecting the precious earthen soil from eroding away in the rain. In days spent wasting away in concrete cages I yearn for grass. Months spent swallowed by the tundra I beg for an acre of green lawn to sprint across. That smell on a warm summers eve, like a freshly cut salad, chopped and minced to mulch.