06 Jul Blades of Grass
A white paper flier was taped to our front door. I removed it and read the bold, green letters from the landscape maintenance company’s ad: “Things your lawn is trying to tell you.”
The list was quite long, including many ominous messages a yard might be trying to share, such as “I’m dying of thirst” and “You’re killing me with too much fertilizer.” The solution, of course, was to use the company’s expert services.
I glanced toward our front yard, imagining the lawn trying in desperation to send us a message, grateful to see this landscape company’s attempted intervention.
But all I saw were blades of grass gently dancing in the wind. Thousands of green blades, growing confidently from the single spot on earth where each had taken root. Most of the grass was contained in the cement borders of the yard, though some rogue blades pushed through cracks in the concrete driveway. In one patch of the yard, blades were slowly unfolding upward from trampled spots where the girls had been doing cartwheels earlier. The other blades stood tall, welcoming both the scorching sun and torrential monsoon rains this day had brought.
I remembered reading that if you look at a cross section of a blade of grass under a microscope, you will see what looks like a bunch of little smiley faces staring back at you. These smiling faces are actually vascular bundles that transport food and water through the leaf. I looked at the yard again, imagining the entire lawn under a microscope and seeing a sea of smiling faces.
Happy blades of grass. Delicate little miracles of persistence and longevity. Each one smiling with optimistic determination to grow in spite of unending obstacles. Green blades of hope and forgiveness, more powerful than any challenge that comes their way.
I crumpled the flier and tossed it in the trash can. The grass had already told me all I needed to hear.