All Abuzz

60: (August 2021)

The early morning sun beckons me. The flowers call out even louder: “Come outside!” Cup of tea in hand, I step out of my house into the world—the world that never ceases to amaze and refresh me. And perhaps best of all, to delight me. How fortunate I am to live in a part of the world that has allowed nature to occupy the bulk of space instead of being overrun by humans.

I stroll among the flower beds, noticing new blooms and faded flower heads. I know all the plants fairly intimately; it fills me with a sense of contentment to be among so much life that I’ve helped to cultivate. Now for the icing on the cake: I see dozens and dozens of insects buzzing throughout the garden, feeding on various flowers, oftentimes several insect species atop a single flower head. My garden is feeding the pollinators—the insects we humans rely on for life itself. Without them our food supply would be grim indeed.

The hummingbirds zip about, also enjoying the varied opportunities for nectar. The birds in the fruit trees surrounding the garden and in the grapevine engulfing the arbor at the garden’s center sing in joyful appreciation of it all. Or at least that’s how I interpret their songs.

My garden is messy. I never have the heart to pull out flowers that self-seed in spots where they aren’t supposed to be. In this garden, everything gets to grow in a general free-for-all. It’s a happy garden!

I’ve also learned to let the grass that surrounds it grow fairly high, only mowing every few weeks in order to let the insects pollinate there as well. Having learned a lot about environmental health over the years, my “lawn” has been gradually supplanted in large part with creeping thyme and summer savory, as well as soft, luscious star moss that feels exquisite underfoot. I want our little plot of earth to welcome and nurture as many forms of life as possible.

When I go outside, I can hear the insects humming, the crickets chirping, and the birds singing. I drink it all in as deeply as I can, stocking up on this soul food before the cold weather sets in when the earth will hold its magic in a frosty clutch until the following spring. Ah, summer!

40: (August 2001)

I remember the push mower my Dad used on our postage stamp lot in Brooklyn. Its blades were bright yellow. We moved to a larger lawn on Long Island when I was 7, and a new, gasoline-powered mower ousted the yellow, reel mower. Over the years, I have thought of that yellow mower as something of an antique, a quaint tool of the past. But this summer brought with it a change in perception, because I am now the proud owner of an orange-bladed push lawnmower.

The orange blades are the result of a science lesson about ecosystems and weather that I was teaching my home-schooled daughter. For our final session, we read a rousing essay on man’s detrimental effect on the environment and how our rampant use of tools and “toys” adds up to gradual pollution of the air and eventual destruction of the atmosphere. I felt pangs of guilt when I learned that using a gas-powered lawnmower for an hour is equivalent to driving a new car for 11 hours in terms of its effect on the environment. I can justify transportation, but polluting the earth just so I can have a lawn seemed frivolous. A week later, when I dusted off the power mower for the first cut of the spring, I knew I could not do it anymore.

I bought a quality push lawnmower on the Web and gave away my power mower so I would not be tempted to change my mind. To my surprise, pushing the reel mower was a lot easier than I thought it would be. My lawn is not small; it’s about a quarter of an acre. The power mower is definitely easier to use, but not that much. Using my own muscle power seems a small price to pay in exchange for not adding to the earth’s noise and air pollution.

Power mowers are so much part of the landscape that I had been tricked into thinking I needed one. I had assumed that hand lawnmowers would be beyond my ability to push. I am not what most people would call a strong person. I have never been to a gym or participated in sports. Let’s just say that if I can mow my lawn with a push mower, almost anyone can. It’s simply a question of whether one is willing to get some exercise while cutting the grass.

Advertisers feed us images of relaxed people sitting atop ride-on lawnmowers, drinking cool drinks. The message seems to be to get larger machines if at all possible, to achieve less work with greater ease. But instead of doing less work and then having to “exercise” to keep fit, doesn’t it make more sense to use the body’s energy to actually get something done? I finally woke up from the brainwashing. The upper body workout I now get from mowing my lawn is good for me, it’s free, and I do not have to drive anywhere to do it. I can let the dogs run around while I am mowing, hear my children, and listen to the sounds of nature around me instead of obliterating them with a motorized din.

Oh, there are days when I have let the grass grow a little too high that I feel like I cannot push the orange blades another inch. Yet I always can. And the irony of it is, it feels good.

60-40:

I still have the push mower, but I did succumb to acquiring another gas-powered mower years ago. When I went back to work full time, I didn’t have enough time to cut the grass the old-fashioned way anymore. But choosing to mow the lawn less frequently now provides some compensation for that; it allows wild flowers to take over much of the lawn for weeks on end, adding to the buffet for the pollinators.

Over the years, I have tried to tread more lightly on my piece of earth. In our modern world, it is hard to do, but I believe little efforts are worth it. At the very least, I’m sure the grasshoppers, ants, chipmunks, goldfinches, snakes, butterflies, bees, deer, foxes, squirrels, bats, and so many others that I live with think so.