Moss, Petals, and Spring

 

The nicest thing about spring is that when it makes a mess, it's a pretty colored mess.

I have a beautiful ornamental tree in the front yard. Sometimes I call it a flowering cherry and sometimes I call it a flowering plum, but it doesn't make any difference which one it is because it never even pretends to put out any type of fruit. It just fills up the sky with pink blossoms that flutter down in the breeze. This year it accommodated me by blooming while Mom was visiting.

Heavy rains and wind pounded it for the last week, leaving drifts of pink petals on the grass. I got most of them sucked up in the lawn mower, but I expect a pink speckled lawn for at least another week. Some of it is bound to be tracked inside.

The grass bolts this time of year, trying to go to seed between mowings. If we take a little trip anywhere this time of year, it wins. More than once we've returned after two weeks away to knee high meadow where the back yard used to be.

Weeds are bound to win, but I do a lot better than my chemical dumping neighbors. I use a sharp knife to cut dandelion roots below ground level. About fifteen minutes of light work, and they're beaten back for the summer. As for the wild violets- I have just learned to appreciate their beauty.

Last month brother Tim asked for advice about moss in his yard. I gave him expert advice from years of experience, which is 'rake out most of it, then apply fertilizer with moss killer.' (I didn't tell him that this was something he would be doing every three months for the rest of his life unless he chose the 'hands off' approach that I use in dealing with the inevitable.) I warned him that any moss that was left would turn black from the iron. Laurel didn't want him mucking around with the lawn right this soon before the wedding reception.

The subject was tabled until last week when they came for lunch. Tim looked at my front lawn and exclaimed, “MOSS” as though this was his first attempt to identify it. He might have been exclaiming in admiration at the soft, green blanket that I have cultivated over the years, but that wasn't my first impression. I'm pretty sure they had another discussion about when to get rid of moss on their way home.

I think of it as just another hue of spring.

Nancy Sherer

 

 


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