Gratified

Our yard is pretty good size if you consider that we use a walking mower to cut it. I find it truly gratifying to mow the yard.We divvy it up between three people and each shear a portion. Sam and I split the backyard. Sometimes, if I can get the lawnmower to turn over, she and I cut together, like a contest. Her area rolls uphill to the lilac bushes which are in full bloom. I don’t want to remind her, full of big, fat, lilac-overdosed, lethargic bumble bees.

My portion meets the pines whose fragrance I enjoy immensely but she doesn’t want to be near, because she thinks pines are full of ticks. (I have had no incidences) at any rate, I find yard work therapeutic and satisfying because of the instant gratification. There's the visual: you can see it’s been cut, the fragrance of cut grass and the mental satisfaction of knowing you've lopped the heads off of hundreds of blasted dandelions.

I try not to think about them sending out longer and longer taproots or the fact that they bud closer to the ground the second time, thereby missing the blades altogether.

Instead I focus in the moment, the lawn with grass as smooth an even as pool table felt. And a tall glass of iced peach tea for a job well done.