Midwest Lawns

In Seattle, where I’m from, people let their lawns go brown during the short season without much rain. (About six weeks bridging the end of July though early September.) And many folks are perfectly comfortable with dandelions and other weeds.

Not in Minneapolis. Here, there’s a not-so-silent social contract to keep your lawn green, mowed and free of anything not grass. I didn’t discover this accidentally. Soon after moving into our first house, my new neighbor, who had been there before the neighborhood even existed, let me know it was “twice a week mowing season.” And later offered to give me the number of kid “who could take care this,” gesturing to my yard. At the time, we had two kids under five. I was working 50+ hours a week and my wife was getting her masters in night school. Suffice to say, mowing once a week was an accomplishment. Hell, even buttoning my shirt correctly was a win.

We’ve been in our current house 20+ years now and we’re on friendly terms with all our neighbors. But I still feel the pressure. All of us are blessed with decent yards and big trees. But one neighbor mows frequently to get her steps in. Every time I hear her lawnmower buzzing in the background I think, “crap, now I gotta mow, too.”

Which is why this little piece amused me so much.

A Conversation Between God and St. Francis, the Patron Saint of the Natural Environment

God: Frank you know all about gardens and nature. What in the world is going on down there in the Midwest? What happened to the dandelions, violets, thistle and stuff I started eons ago? I had a perfect, no-maintenance garden plan. Those plants grow in any type of soil, withstand drought and multiply with abandon. The nectar from the long-lasting blossoms attracted butterflies, honey bees and flocks of songbirds. I expected to see a vast garden of colors by now. But all I see are these green rectangles.

St. Francis: It's the tribes that settled there, Lord. The Suburbanites. They started calling your flowers "weeds" and went to great lengths to kill them and replace them with grass. 

God: Grass? But it's so boring. It's not colorful. It doesn't attract butterflies, birds and bees, only grubs and sod worms. It's temperamental with temperatures. Do these Suburbanites really want all that grass growing there? 

St. Francis: Apparently so, Lord. They go to great pains to grow it and keep it green. They begin each spring by fertilizing grass and poisoning any other plant that crops up in the lawn. 

God: The spring rains and warm weather probably make grass grow really fast. That must make the Suburbanites happy. 

St. Francis: Apparently not, Lord. As soon as it grows a little, they cut it... sometimes twice a week. 

God: They cut it? Do they then bail it like hay? 

St. Francis: Not exactly, Lord. Most of them rake it up and put it in bags. 

God: They bag it? Why? Is it a cash crop? Do they sell it? 

St. Francis: No Sir. Just the opposite. They pay to throw it away. 

God: Let me get this straight. They fertilize grass so when it does grow, they cut it and pay to throw it away? 

St. Francis: Yes, Sir. 

God: These Suburbanites must be relieved in the summer when we cut back on the rain and turn up the heat. That surely slows the growth and saves them a lot of work. 

St. Francis: You’re not going to believe this, Lord. When the grass stops growing so fast, they drag out hoses and pay more money to water it so they can continue to mow it and pay to get rid of it. 

God: What?! At least they kept some of the trees. That was a stroke of genius, if I do say so myself. The trees grow leaves in the spring to provide beauty and shade in the summer. In the autumn they fall to the ground and form a natural blanket to keep moisture in the soil and protect the trees and bushes. Plus, as they rot, the leaves form compost to enhance the soil. It's a natural circle of life. 

St. Francis: You better sit down, Lord. The Suburbanites have drawn a new circle. As soon as the leaves fall, they rake them into great piles and pay to have them hauled away. 

God: No. What do they do to protect the shrub and tree roots in the winter and to keep the soil moist and loose? 

St. Francis: After throwing away the leaves, they go out and buy something they call mulch. They haul it home and spread it around in place of the leaves. 

God: And where do they get this mulch? 

St. Francis: They cut down trees and grind them up. 

God: Oy veh. 

A note on authorship: This story is all over the Internet without attribution. I did find one reference that included this, “Reprinted by permission of El Ojo Del Lago News, Guadalajara, Mexico” which seems an unlikely source. I checked it out and they did write about St. Francis but this story seems well outside their wheelhouse. It must have been written by somebody in the MidWest.