Inspired by a sermon years ago, I realized that the grass is always greener on the other side if you never water your own lawn. This was, of course, a metaphor for life that has been fairly profound for me. I can extrapolate on that another time, but for today, I am taking this phrase in its literal sense. The really awesome part is that I have rarely had to do the actual watering this year!
I began with a space in front of our house with some green plants that were coming out of the ground. Pat once told me to stay off his nice grass when I went to get the mail, and I replied that I was. I am not well acquainted with the Kansas weeds, or wasn't at first, so I cannot tell you what it was that was growing. Whatever it all was didn't seem to be thriving.
In light of the fact that we had little with which to work, I proposed that we start over completely. We began to spray the glyphosate over the greenery and impatiently waited for it to die. It mostly did die, and that propelled us on to do the rototilling of the now brownest front yard in the neighborhood, which is saying something. Notice I include the picture of myself yielding the tiller even though I might have done only a fraction of the work.
The work I did do, however, did amount to quite a bit. I was the one who took the hard rake and cleared most of the debris, then the soft rake to smooth it all down before spreading the Buffalo Seed and raking it all in again. I was exceedingly tired of raking that day.
I planted the seed during the first week of June, which was a bit dryer than now. I tried a series of different sprinklers, and finally bit the bullet and purchased a tractor. In the case there was any question on the matter, I did not do any fertilizing prior to seeding, or after, as Buffalo is quite content without it, and weeds seem to thrive when it is applied. Speaking of weeds, I spent no small amount of time this summer on a knee pad in my front yard pulling the devilish roots from my lawn. Again, I don't know exactly all that I pulled, but it was enough to know if it wasn't Buffalo grass.
Fast forward to today and you can see what a month of timely rain on sandy soil will do for Buffalo seeds! I am beyond happy! I am border-line in love with my grass. That sentence could be so misconstrued! Anyway, I still go out on occasion to pull the grassy weeds from the slender light green blades, but it is filling in so well I believe it will be thick enough to choke the intruding grasses out on its own!
Interestingly, in my study on the "Grass is Greener on the Other Side" topic, I did discover that when one looks down on grass from the top, the blades are thin and appear less dense than when viewing them from the side, as you would if you were looking at the proverbial "other side." As the pictures show, this is absolutely true! Still, I am tickled to see in the more bare spots, the runners of Buffalo with many more starts on them that will quickly fill those holes! I am sure my giddiness is coming through!
I have now mowed the front grass several times, and I am so excited each time! Pat suggested we choose Buffalo because of it's inherent drought tolerance as well as the lack of maintenance with fertilizer and mowing. Lately I am having to mow once a week, but as I am sadly aware of the anomaly of this years weather pattern, I am sure that this will not be the norm! I really don't mind mowing. I sometimes think I really should have been a farmer.
So now I have a much greener space than before. If you notice the picture at the beginning, I have added a few other touches to the landscape as well. The transformation has been so invigorating for me! I am somehow able to manifest a level of patience out in this space that eludes me most other places, even as close as inside the rust-colored door. There is just something about preparing a plan, starting something so small, doing the tedious work to protect the vulnerable starts, and seeing the efforts come to various stages of maturity that fills my soul. So yes, now I feel like my grass is on the side that is greener.
