The Season Of Grass

By Tom Poland

 

Turf Wars Of Another Kind

 

Seven-thirty in the evening. Redbirds perch on bamboo stalks as hummingbirds engage in dogfights over feeders. The water from my fountain burbles. It’s peaceful. A good time to sip a real drink and reflect.

Not one but two lawnmowers fire up to the west. So much for a tranquil evening, but I don’t mind. The season of grass brings birds, thunderstorms, fireflies, pleasant days, and nights of serenading cicadas. It brings, too, backroad getaways and the fertile smell of rain-spattered dirt roads. If noisy lawnmowers come with summer so be it. It’s a small price to pay. And, besides, I like cutting grass.

Most lawns where I live are small. It takes 30 minutes tops to cut them. The whining mowers don’t whine long but the fresh fragrance of newly cut grass does. It fills the air with sweetness and recall. I can’t smell freshly mown grass without thinking of football. Football, in fact, appeals to me (and others) because of its fields of grass. Don’t believe me? Would you rather watch a game on thick, luxuriant turf or artificial turf? How Boise State fans tolerate their awful blue field mystifies me. They should be put on probation for allowing that field to exist. I don’t care much for basketball and the wooden court is why. Grass and sports go together. One of the joys of watching the Masters is its sublime grass. What care goes into the greens and fairways. I’d like to think that caring for that grass is a joy but I have no doubt it’s fraught with worries and keeps the chief greenskeeper up nights as April approaches.

 

 

I experienced a grass drought of sorts. For seven years I owned a condominium and landscapers took care of the grass. Mom and Dad said a condo wasn’t really a home; it was an apartment. Looking back, they were right. I served as the vice president of the homeowner’s association, and I learned a thing or two about grass and regional differences. In Building A across the parking lot lived a lady from New Yawk City. She hated grass and was always demanding that we lay concrete over it. “Can we just pave over the grass!” she’d beseech. Yeah, right, Gladys.

For seven condo summers I never cut grass and that started of one of my sorrier phases. Cutting grass is a ritual that’s good for you. It teaches you things. You learn to be a bit of a mechanic. Sometimes a finicky mower doesn’t want to start. Clean the air filter and put a new spark plug in. That helps. Keep the blade sharp and at the right height.

Taking care of a lawn teaches you a bit about insects. If you have St. Augustine and I do, you learn that chinch bugs are bad news. And, of course, you have to deal with fire ants. Becoming a self-made entomologist is good for you. You learn a bit of chemistry too when it comes to dealing with insects and fertilizers.

 

 

Keeping a nice lawn is good for your self-esteem. My neighbor, Marty, and I engage in friendly turf wars. We’re the only folks on our court who give our all to our lawns and it shows.

Cutting grass is good exercise. Get out there in the blazing sun and sweat. Don’t forget the sunscreen. Drink lots of water. And pity those who use a riding mower with a cup holder for their beer. That’s not yard work!

Trying to perfect a lawn teaches you humility. Invariably weeds and bugs do it in no matter how hard you work on it. Seeing a brown patch of dead grass says one thing loud and clear: “You got work to do fella.”

Maintaining a lawn requires discipline. It’s Saturday and recent rains really got that Scotts Turf Builder working. The grass is high but your friends want you to come to the lake for the day. Tomorrow it’s going to rain and if you go to the lake, a week will pass before you can tend to the grass. Crank that mower up and start pushing it. The lake can wait.

The season of grass brings out the meteorologist in you. I study the forecast looking for rain and thunderstorms. Here in the city the water bill can get pretty high. Nothing pleases me more than to see a splash of red and yellow thunderstorms on the Weather Channel’s radar. Knowing rain’s coming makes a big difference to my water bill and my state of mind.

Keeping a healthy lawn makes you a bit of a wildlife watcher too. For four years now a fine little grass snake has lived in my front yard. Each summer I look for him and am always glad to know he made it through the winter. He hunts in my St. Augustine and I worry that my mower may get him one day.

All these things I missed for seven summers. Well, never again. Yard work is a good thing. It keeps me out of trouble. Maybe that’s why a lot of city types get in tangles with the law. Maybe living in and around all that hot cement makes them hardened criminals. (Drum roll!)

Keeping a lawn healthy keeps you busy. Prior to the season of grass there’s the pre-emergent weed phase. Then as the soil warms up and the grass greens up, it’s time to lay down turf builder. Then weeks and weeks of mowing arrive. Besides mowing, there’s edging. After the season of grass ends all the autumn leaves fall. I have no heart for raking leaves. I mulch them with the lawnmower giving it a late autumn and an early February workout. Then, at last, I rake what’s left of the leaves and with keen anticipation look forward to summer for the season grass always gives me good memories. When I was about eight Dad paid me a dime to cut the front yard with an old reel mower. It didn’t have a motor. I was the motor and that shiny dime he gave me? It was the first money I earned.

Yes, I love cutting grass. I accomplish things and clearly see the progress I’m making. When the grass is cut and that rich green St. Augustine looks like carpet, complete with a neat edge along the drive and curbs it’s a thing of beauty. All that remains is to get out the leaf blower and with great and annoying noise blow the driveway clean as a whistle. Then I walk the grounds surveying my grass kingdom and crack open a cold beverage. You know the kind I mean. The best moment in a Saturday has arrived and if my calculations are right, I expect to have twenty or more sublime Saturdays thanks to the season of grass.

 

 

Visit Tom Poland’s website at www.tompoland.net
Email Tom about most anything. [email protected]

 

Tom Poland is the author of eleven books and more than 1,000 magazine features. A Southern writer, his work has appeared in magazines throughout the South. The University of South Carolina Press has released his and Robert Clark’s book, Reflections Of South Carolina, Vol. II. The History Press of Charleston just released his book, Classic Carolina Road Trips From Columbia. He writes a weekly column for newspapers in Georgia and South Carolina about the South, its people, traditions, lifestyle, and changing culture.

 

 

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