The vicissitudinous growth of grass…

Posted on April 30, 2018 by Sue Vincent

The winter before last caught me by surprise with the early onset of rain. The final cut of the lawn was postponed due to wet weather… and remained that way until spring finally decided to put in an appearance. Now, I love to see a meadow of long grass… the uncropped and slender spears are far more beautiful than a shorn expanse. The wildflowers and small creatures love it too…. but as a lawn, it is not entirely appealing.

The small dog loves to flollop through the long grass when we are out walking, but her lawn must be close-shaven. When forced to wade through grass of wild stature in search of her ball or a place for her morning necessities, she picks her way through the stuff as if she is walking on hot coals. And should it be wet as well, she glares at me, leaving me in no doubt at all that her misery is entirely my fault.

Having suffered one winter of her discontent, I was determined not to be caught napping twice. No more ‘I’ll do it tomorrow’…  No. If the weather was half decent, the stuff was being cut.

It is all too easy to put things off, especially when you feel you have plenty of time to deal with them, but it takes so little to get in the way of that ‘plenty of time’…and suddenly you have a major problem. And not just where mowing the lawn is concerned.

Left untouched, the problem areas grow. Like grass that refuses to dry, they hold on to the cause of the problem, becoming self-perpetuating. Without attention, all sorts of beasties find the dank undergrowth and its shadows a perfect lurking ground. And, when you do decide the problem must be tackled, it is ten times harder to resolve than had it been done in the first place…

…which is why I pounced on the mower all autumn. Took the slightest opportunity all winter… and we survived the worst of it with grass of a reasonable length, in spite of the constant torrents of rain. The dog was still not happy, but she really can’t blame me for the puddles that formed in the waterlogged mudpatch where the lawn used to be.

With the advent of spring, I was on high alert, waiting for the briefest break in the soggy, wet weather. One bit of sunshine, even a dry and windy day… I didn’t care. The mower was poised and oiled, tested and adjusted so it would not scalp the sodden earth. On the first dry day, Ani hid under the desk and I cut to my heart’s content. Finally, we would start the spring with something that looked vaguely like a lawn!

I kept cutting for the next two weeks and the stuff was green, tidy… short! The squishy bits were drying out nicely. The dog was happy. Then came the weekend of the workshop where I had to be away. I squeezed in a final cut, confident that I would return to a green and glowing garden.

The trouble was… I did. There was a bit of a heatwave while I was away… which, coupled with the water held in the wet earth, had encouraged more growth and greening than I had bargained for. You would not think it had been cut since last summer. And it has continued to rain ever since I got back. So the grass just keeps on growing.

In fact, everything has kept on growing, and I look out through the falling rain on a lush paradise of waving fronds and wildflowers. Except, that is where my nice, short lawn is supposed to be. The wildflowers are growing where nothing should and may in all fairness, have to be relegated to being described as weeds. The only dry spells seem to coincide with the time I am out at work.

While it is undeniably better to tackle the job when it is small… be that mowing the lawn or clearing the dark recesses of the psyche, sometimes you just have to wait for the right moment to arrive. Outside, the rain is lashing against the windows again. The wind is howling and the sky ominously and stubbornly iron-clad.

But it is Beltane Eve and the May blossom is opening on the hawthorns at the bottom of the garden. Nature has decided that spring has sprung, whether or not the weather gods comply. All things happen in their own time, both in the garden and in the heart and mind of Man. Long or short, the grass will keep on growing… and so do we.

About Sue Vincent

Sue Vincent was a Yorkshire born writer, esoteric teacher and a Director of The Silent Eye. She was immersed in the Mysteries all her life. Sue maintained a popular blog and is co-author of The Mystical Hexagram with Dr G.M.Vasey. Sue lived in Buckinghamshire, having been stranded there due to an accident with a blindfold, a pin and a map. She had a lasting love-affair with the landscape of Albion, the hidden country of the heart. Sue  passed into spirit at the end of March 2021.
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55 Responses to The vicissitudinous growth of grass…

  1. Pingback: The vicissitudinous growth of grass… – The Militant Negro™

  2. Stuart France says:
    April 30, 2018 at 06:20

    My beard is a bit the same…

    Liked by 1 person

    Reply
  3. Ritu says:
    April 30, 2018 at 06:24

    Love the idea of Ani flolloping around!

    Liked by 1 person

    Reply
  5. jenanita01 says:
    April 30, 2018 at 09:33

    How I can relate to the problem of having a lawn! Unfortunately, I am almost too old and infirm to cope with a lawn. Ours is about 10feet wide and 50feet long, approximately twice as long as I can comfortable cope with. Quie near where I live, someone has replaced their lawn with one of these artificial turfs. It is always a fresh and healthy green, always exactly the right length. Whoever laid it has made a good job of it, for it never changes, year in and year out. Probably cost a fortune, so that counts me out, leaving me with a problem. I am thinking of staggering the job, cutting a small section at a time. It could work, but I won’t like it…

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  6. The Story Reading Ape says:
    April 30, 2018 at 10:10

    LOVE that word ‘flollop’, Sue – Ani obviously enjoyed doing it 😀

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  7. Jennie says:
    April 30, 2018 at 12:47

    When Mother Nature decides to finally make her entrance, she doesn’t enter meekly.

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  9. fransiweinstein says:
    April 30, 2018 at 13:43

    I love lush gardens and flowers but I am a lazy sod. Alas, it’s apartment living for me. I do have a balcony and enjoy pots of flowers but I miss the scent of freshly-mown grass, especially after it rains and feeling the morning dew on my bare feet.

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  10. Sue Dreamwalker says:
    April 30, 2018 at 14:02

    I think everyone’s lawn grew at an amazing rate given the rain then the heatwave.. Hubby managed to cut ours between showers at the weekend.. 🙂
    Happy Gardening Sue ❤

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  11. D. Wallace Peach says:
    April 30, 2018 at 15:14

    I love all the green in your photos, Sue. Finally, spring has sprung. 🙂 The planet’s growth around here is hard to keep up with, but I love it despite the work. I rest assured that nature is all-powerful and the planet is hers.

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  12. Marilyn Armstrong says:
    April 30, 2018 at 18:44

    No problem here. The ground is naked. NO grass. Nothing but dirt and mud and mucky dog toys. the grass in the back hasn’t even started growing. Everything is running late, late, late. And I’m not sure, but I think the lawnmower needs repair, too.

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  13. Darlene says:
    April 30, 2018 at 19:02

    When we lived in Vancouver we never complained about the rain, as that was what kept everything so green and lovely. Mind you, I don’t miss the constant rain now that I’m in Spain. I’m sure your garden looks wonderful.

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  15. dgkaye says:
    May 1, 2018 at 02:54

    I love how Ani holds the reins on you Sue. Whether you feel like it or not, you have to cut the grass to keep Ani from fussing. 🙂 xx

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  16. Widdershins says:
    May 1, 2018 at 03:00

    I think we can safely use that old saw, ‘spring has sprung – a leak!’ 🙂 … at least I got the front yard done.

    The only thing is our old lawnmower has one speed (not that fast) and the grassy areas in the back yard will, by the time the rain stops and it dries out enough, need a mower with a great deal more ‘flollop-ness’ so I’m thinking that the weed-wacker might make it’s debut for the season. 🙂

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  17. Anne Copeland says:
    May 1, 2018 at 06:13

    This putting things off is so meaningful right now. It hit the mark for sure. A part of me wants to move, to do things I have on my list, and to do it with the same energy I have had for so many years. And suddenly I do not. And I am not focused. I think I need the weed-wacker for my brain.

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