Place Entry #5: The Grass is Always Greener

I've become the kind of person that is obsessed with grass.

We've had a lot of awfully nice weather this week. And in this very nice weather, I've found that my grass is patchy. As I stepped out into my back yard today,  I saw just how high some of the grass was. Sadie darted out between my feet, and some of the longer stalks came up to her shoulder. Granted, she's only 11 inches tall. She seemed startled by the grass, walking gingerly around the yard, and hopping over a big patch like she was jumping a fence. She ran back inside and I couldn't persuade her to come back out.

The ground is soft and slightly wet, like a damp sponge that had been left on top of the dryer, or in the sun on a window sill. There is a small clump of purple flowery-type things growing over by my fence. As I walk to the middle of my yard, I brush through the grass and little things fly up. I cannot tell if they are bugs or pollen, and I've decided I don't want to know. The rabbit that lives in the bushes on the edge of the property is preparing to run, and I wish Sadie were here to run after it, because Sadie could use the run and there's no danger of her catching it.

My backyard is uneven, I decide. The bits against my house and back porch are higher than the middle of the yard, which often turns into a mini-lake / swamp area during rain. They are the parts that got mowed the least last year, because my mower kept dying. The yard slopes down again on the sides, and there is a tree that is really green because all of the water runs right to its roots. This unevenness is accentuated by my uneven grass. The parts in the swamp aren't growing at all, which at first confuses me, but then I figure they just get drowned out by all the water. The area around the bushes at the property line are eaten down each day by the rabbit, so there are just a few big tufts of thick grass there.

As I've been walking Sadie, I've been paying attention to the grass. This is suburbia, or as close to it as Dover gets, and lawns are a big deal. When my dad was down last weekend, we walked Sadie through the neighborhood. He lamented that no one here cares about their grass. There are brown patches in almost every yard. I pointed out that we were just starting spring, and people weren't really thinking about grass yet. He said, "Well, yeah, sure..." and I got the idea that he thinks we should all always be thinking about our grass, as though it is a symbol of how much you care for your neighborhood.

I am overly worried about my yard. My neighbors on both sides have very nice green yards, with grass that, if not perfectly mowed, is at least at a respectable height. My yard, while not completely sticking out, could quickly become the eyesore of the corner. I measure my house against the abandoned house down the street. I have more tufts of thick green than they do, although theirs is generally less groomed.

It bothers me that I am the kind of person who worries about grass. I had neighbors in high school who planted wildflowers for their front lawn, and never had to worry about mowing it, except for a tiny swath of grass they left in the middle and called the "Art Highway" in honor of the path my brother would take to their front door. These people certainly didn't worry about grass, and they turned out alright.

As I sit here, I wonder how it is that lawns became the way in which we present ourselves to society. I can see from my back yard a nicely manicured lawn with a cute Adirondack chair and a planter in the front yard, and of course that is appealing and welcoming, but it's also silly because I never see anyone sitting in the chair and it will just get all gross when it rains. Behind me, in the house with the dogs that never stop barking, the yard in fenced in and looks like it is mostly dying grass and dirt from the dogs running outside all of the time. That does give a different vibe, I guess.

I've been wanting to hold off on mowing, but I don't think I can anymore. Soon it will be obvious where the property lines are based on the height of the grass. I haven't heard anyone else mow yet, and I don't want the neighborhood to wonder why I am mowing so early in the season. At the same time, I'd hate for them to wonder why the heck my grass is so long.

I guess I'd better go move the newspaper from the front yard first...