Lots of rain fell this past winter. Lots of rain has fallen this spring. We are lucky to be high above any flooding problems, and as I sit on the front porch I remember back to other homes and other yards, other wet winters and springs.
I first remember noticing our grass when I was still young enough to find it made a great plaything. It would grow so high it became a hiding place, get down on your hands and knees and crawl through, make long curving tunnels through it, mazes leading from the swing set to the barn, the driveway to the chicken run. How did we never end up with ticks all over us? As it got to the most perfect point for tunneling though, Daddy would step in and spoil all the fun. He would mow it down. Darn.
At Gold Oak School there were rolling hills to each side, and on the Northeast there was a perfect hill on which the grass grew high. The wind would blow and the grass would form into lovely waves of changing shades of green, now soft sage, now bright new leaf green, now a golden yellow green about to change and put out the seeds of summer. I could sit and watch it for hours.
A couple of weeks ago I was driving back one Friday morning from my weekly Weight Watchers meeting in Folsom. Along Green Valley Road, almost back to Placerville again, there was a hillside which was a match to the one of my childhood. Wave after wave flowed up the hill, it was mesmerizing. I had to pull to the side of the road and watch for a bit. Last Friday the show was still going on, but the colors are already (in spite of all the rain) changing from green to the golden shades of summer.
I remember what seems like just a few weeks ago (but must have been months instead) looking out at the brown dried grass and wondering when the new green shoots would start to peek out and take over. Now they are in control.
Robbi (our Welsh Corgi) can sometimes disappear into the grass, making mazes and tunnels just like I did when I was about his age! He is more likely to come back home with a tick than I was.
Ah, our not-so-secret weapon against the grass. Hubby has two riding mowers. One is 28 years old, and still going strong, but will only turn right. With our steep property that can be a bit problematic. The newer mower is about 7 years old.
He tries to avoid the wildflowers, which tend to bloom in drifts. You might notice he holds on with one hand to keep himself on the mower as it tips on the hills. The steeper spots are where he uses the weed eater. He has gone through several in the 12 years we have lived here.
Hubby had a bit of a hard time here between the two digger tree stumps, it was steep and the ground was rough. Kind of like riding a mechanical bull, only he didn't have several beers first!
Ride 'em cowboy, and thank you for keeping our property mowed and beautiful! Our neighbors have a barbecue once a year and hold lawnmower races. I think it is a sneaky way to get their grass mowed down, but it works and it is a lot of fun.