Lawn Delivery aka Sod It
So, the husband and I were discussing the subject matter of this particular column. The conversation went a little like this…
“What are you going to write about?”
“I haven’t the foggiest idea.”
“Oh.”
… and that brought to mind a conversation my mother and I had earlier this afternoon. I’ve been sending her listings for houses in the area thinking that in the next year or so she would probably move here. The primary comment is that the landscape is rather sparse here in Boise. It’s true.
You see, in the Pacific Northwest, the landscape is vastly populated with old-growth trees accompanied by undergrowth in the form of bushes, ferns, rhododendrons and the like. Tall grass which remains un-mown can grow to three and four feet high and remains, typically, a vibrant green. Bushes are plentiful and leafy and, again, usually a myriad different shades of green. There are frequently fields of wild flowers which bloom in such abundance that it looks like a horizontal rainbow exploded across a sea of green; and daffodils grow wild on the sides of the road. This irrefutable growth explodes across wide swaths of green like fireworks explode across a Fourth-of-July sky.
Here in Boise “mature landscaping” actually means trees that grow as tall as the roof of a two-story house. Rock-and-twig gardens abound here. Tall grass is called “cheat grass”, is considered a noxious weed, and is a particularly dull shade of brown. Shrubs and bushes come in the form of “goat heads” which remain rather near the ground and can cause severe pain issues for pets and humans alike.
When I mentioned these observations to Mr. Fixer, he objected. He said there was too green grass here in Boise. He also said there are many very beautifully landscaped homes as well as large expanses of public parks with green, growing, lush grass. I have to admit it as truth. One often gets to choose what kind of grass they want, probably from a catalog, which then is delivered from the back of a truck. He said that over on the coast, we probably didn’t even know what sod was. I said we did too; after all, we’ve seen movies where people in sere locations have their lawns delivered. On the coast, though, we don’t need sod. We have moss! And mushrooms!!
The first time I saw a sod farm was when I lived in Snohomish. We drove past that place every time we entered or left the valley, and for years I wondered what they actually sold. At that point in my life, I had no clue that the vast acreage of green grass was the product. Who would buy grass when it grew naturally? Who would ever pay someone else for something they already had for free?
I can understand the attraction to sparse landscaping. It does look clean. It looks as if nature finally figured out how to clean up and throw away the “garbage”; as if the earth discovered how to clean its room. There can be genuine appeal in that. But to me it looks false and empty. It looks sterile.
I don’t like my space to be empty. I like the familiar, lived-in feel of a little clutter. When a room is too clean, it feels like a museum exhibit, or a hospital room. It feels unfriendly and cold. I like having a few piles of “stuff” that make a room warmer, more inviting.
Like that, I want to see external clutter. I LIKE having leaves and pine cones and bushes littering the ground. They add character, warmth and a lived-in feel to a place. I like it when trees are taller and bigger around than I am, they give me a sense of permanence and safety. I like it when grass grows naturally, remains green throughout the year and doesn’t require me to pay for that privilege; or pay for lawn-delivery.
There are many things that I am growing to love and enjoy about this land east of the Cascades, but, as I said in my first column, I really do miss the lush green of the coast. I miss a landscape of trees dotted with clearings rather than clearings dotted with trees. I miss the messy, unkempt look of old-growth rain forests replete with blackberry brambles, fern fronds big enough to make clothes from and explosions of rhododendrons in a riot of colors. I miss the wild, untamable spirit of the coast.
I especially miss those things today, knowing as I do that tomorrow I’ll be spending the entire day in the cold; with people who think that going up to a “mountain lake” for fishing and a bonfire – at the end of December, no less – is actually “fun”. It’s going to be cold. It’s going to be very cold. Did I mention it was going to be cold?
Okay, truth be told, I’m probably going to have a really good time. Most likely it will be a whole lot more fun than even I can imagine. And, I’ll probably enjoy myself tremendously. That doesn’t mean I have to admit it, though. Grumble, grumble.
Until next time…
D. S. Vic
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