Leave the Lawn

 

In the same week

that we bought the truck, 

spring, like us, 

was still speeding along.

Unseasonably warm temps 

teased us for short stints.

The ferns near my patio, tricked by the temperate intervals, tentatively sprouted and slowly unfurled their tightly curled "fiddle-heads."

The dwarf iris, which bloomed 

before we arrived last year, 

graced us  for the first time

with their delicate bursts 

of beautiful color.

Their dew drop drenched petals were pleasing.

Even when the flimsy flowers were drooping, the way the ponderous droplets of water clung improbably to the collapsing petals made them pleasant to look at.

The the bluebells 

faded to gray in their pasture and then dropped.

The last of the daffodils withered,

but these Narcissus held on until Easter.

The Carolina Anemones  flowered-out in the front yard. The remaining daffodil greens are now mingling with the purple spikes of Ajuga. They make a ragged carpet of colorful "lawn," but I can't bring myself to mow them.

Besides, then I'd have to squash the crawdad chimneys that are scattered here and there amongst the flowers.

And I am still loathe to mow 

the fluffy, feather-like lace

of the dreaded dandelions 

gone to seed.

For not only do I find the brilliant blooms beautiful,
but I like the way
that the sun illuminates
the frilly orbs of seed
that float on slender stalks
above the unorthodox lawn.

Heck, I even find 

the Creeping Charlie 

lovely in its own way!

Actually, the pasture behind the barn is tidier than my front lawn. It has been mown once this season, as you can see here in one of my recent sunrise shots from the upper barn.

Even the hay field is a better lawn. It's a uniform and undulating green-

 although it's knee-height. 

Plus, its gorgeous, glossy green is edged with the wide, white blossoms 

of the dogwoods that reach out from the woods 

to the fringed field. 

I've mowed some areas of our property several times already, especially the parts near the road. But I rationalize that leaving the front lawn long is actually a good thing. Why not have the front yard be like a large, living bouquet?

After all, my children have already gathered all sorts of blooms into bouquets to bequeath to me (although, admittedly, they weren't picked from the front lawn.)  They are embellishing  every flat surface in my living room, kitchen, and dining room. I've received batches of battered Buttercups, groups of drooping Chickweed, and handfuls of Shepherd's Purse. I was even given May Apples that had been twirled like helicopters, brandished like umbrellas, and waved like flags. I thought that they would never recover from their limp, bedraggled state and I only put them in water to humor my kids. But they perked right up, and led us into a lesson on turgor. Who knew that May Apples make good cut flowers?! They stayed perky for a week and gradually faded to pale yellow with purple streaks.

If I had mowed my front lawn sooner, I would have never known that the ground cover bloomed either. See... this lack of lawn-cutting is a sort of loose and twisted science experiment. But then again, I guess the move here, and really- my whole life, is a loose and twisted experiment of sorts. :)