Three.  Three lawn mows down.  Many, many more to go.  

Another blogger, Erika in the Garden, referred to this time of year as lawn mowing season.  This made me both giggle and contemplate.  Erika is quite right after all.  It IS lawn mowing season.  Here in Western Washington, this season lasts as long as baseball season and is just as boring in my experience.  It is only made better, both baseball games and lawn mowing, by cold beverages and the belief that it will one day be over.  Both the current event and the season.  Only the end of the mowing season also means the end of warm weather.  The end of leaves.  The end of blooms.  The end of the magic in the garden and the beginning of the dreadful long wait for buds and blooms again.

So mowing is a must.

It’s a wonderful warm day just north of Seattle and I’m currently critiquing last weekend’s grass cutting.  Today is maybe the third day in a row it hasn’t rained and that is following the rainiest Saturday on record according to the local news.  This dry spell, at least I think I can call it that, has done wonders for the general attitude of the surrounding population including people, birds, and plants.   As I gaze out at the greenery, it seems as if every blade is standing upright at full attention and greedily soaking up the rays.  Unfortunately, this wasn’t so last Sunday when I mowed down a very soggy lawn.  

A break in the weather Sunday morning afforded me a chance to tackle a two-week grass growth.  My goal was to cut the grass a bit shorter than I had the time before so that I could go two weeks in between clipping without it looking too shaggy.  Did I mention that mowing isn’t my favorite?

I set my push reel mower down a level and got to work.  Yes.  A plain old push reel mower that my old neighbors used to scoff at.  As a guilty commuter, even with a small fuel efficient car, I like the idea of not using gasoline when I can.  So I have always prided myself on my “me fueled, no emissions (other than occasional swearing)” appliance.  Despite ridicule.  I’m saving the planet one blade of grass at a time after all.   

About an hour and a half later, I was quite sweaty, and overall pleased with all the neat, carpet-like lines in my lawn.  The over abundance of clippings left behind was too great for grass cycling so I made use of my newly acquired plastic rake (thanks Dad!).  I made several neat piles that eventually made their way into my yard recycling bin.  It was during this cleanup process that I began noticing a few tufts of green here and there that had apparently sprung back up after being flatted by my manual mower.  

Little green Mohawks in my otherwise newly manicured lawn.  

What did I learn?  My lawn is a bad-ass green belt that can’t be tamed.  At least not with a reel mower.  What else did I learn?  Despite my greenhouse gas-less goals, I secretly (cat’s outta the bag now) long for a lawn tractor.  A lawn tractor with a cup holder.  A bad-ass lawn tractor with a cup holder that will not tolerate any Mohawks in my yard!  Get off my lawn!!