Monday was Earth Day. It was also our-lawn-needs-mowing-again day, so that’s how we filled the evening. By “we”, I mean Abbie was working in the garden and weeding the tree rows while I mowed the outer edges of the yard before handing the tractor mower over to Ila, our youngest, 11 years old. She mowed a bit last summer but I have informed/requested from her that this be a big mowing year. She heartily agreed, mowing even more of the acre and a half property than I had asked (or edged).
As I did other outside chores, I made frequent glances toward the sound of the motor to make sure all was well. I also found myself thinking about my earliest tractor mower experiences in my Grandma Miller’s yard. How old was I? Did I mow the whole thing right away or just the parts without trees? How much did I get paid? And I couldn’t help thinking a bit about the future. Ila seems to be liking this. Maybe this could turn into a small business venture for her, build up a good cash reserve. Ha!
I know “mow” and even “yard” can be problematic when it comes to the goals of Earth Day. American lawns hold amazing potential for local habitat restoration for beneficial insects and birds. Any plot of land we tend, no matter how small, can be a teacher to bring us into better balance with this planet we share.
Even, on Monday, the parts we mowed.
Just that small act of cutting the grass put me in contact with four generations, from my grandma, now 92 years old, through my dad and me, to my daughter. The land requires a relationship of some kind, and that relationship always extends both backward and forward in time. The earth is an inheritance received and given. We tend, we maintain, we restore as small members of a grand ecology of life. Being reminded of this was this year’s Earth Day gift to me. I hope to return the gift to the Earth in whatever ways possible.
Joel
Phloem and Xylem 