"Put down the shears and step away from the boxwood, sir."
Over the years, I have witnessed havoc and destruction befall many a garden by eager husbands let loose, unsupervised, armed with loppers and shears. I have seen apple trees that look like they went through a blender. And Rhododendrans that appear to have been involved in combat. I don't know what goes through the mind of garden novices that empowers them to pick up these implements of mass destruction, but they bear a grudge (often permanent) to the plants they attack.
I offer some advice to the prune prone weekend gardener:
• Don't prune or trim while mad. Take a deep breath before venturing out with garden tools. Remember that plant didn't do a damn thing to you, so don't take it out on shrubbery.
• Plants don't come with an owner's manual. So don't think you can read a book and then go for it. The result is usually flora abomination. Even from my own experience as a professional, I find diagrams misleading.
• Hire a gardener. These folks usually know what they're doing and, like a house cleaner, don't cost as much as you would think. Watch them. Talk with them. But please do not venture out into the wilds of your garden to trim, prune or cut anything. At least until you consult with a knowledgeable gardener. Then try it yourself.
Wednesday, April 25, 2007
American Lawns
As I have traversed many a lawn over the years, lawnmower in tow, I have often wondered how we come by the desire to keep our little kingdoms so manicured and tended to. I make this observation without judgement. Personally, I like loose, wild and natural gardens as much as my perfect lawn - mown weekly, I might add.
Historically, I have seen the American Dream come to fruition through tiny blades, varying in hues, of green grass occupying land of the middle and wealthier classes. The less fortunate either tend their garden themselves or prefer a more natural look that requires no maintenance. But peoples' focus on their lawns reflect more than their socioeconomic standing. As life gets more hectic, your lawn (like your desk) evokes satisfaction and clarity when organized and well-kept.
As a country, we are young. We have not gone through the rigors of trial and error (failure) that older countries, like that of Europe. The settlers brought to America the ideals of land management and formal gardens that years of vetting hath wrought. We had a form of instant gratification in that early America. Instant knowledge of how to make each piece of land aesthetically pleasing and productive. When you see photos of town and city homes from the daguerreotype of the late 1800s, the gardens and grass were pristine. Two centuries later that instict still follows.
Nothing short of an alien invasion or severe draught will deter people from their lawns, myself included. I believe there is always a place for lawns in landscape. As Calvin said to Hobbes, 'You can tell how good your day was by the grass stains on your knees."
Michael Pollen suggests in his book 'Botany of Desire' that by way of evolution plants have made themselves attractive to humans, thus ensuring their survival. Grass is a beautiful case study.
Does a well-manicured lawn reflect upon us as a whole? Are Americans little princes and princesses that deign ourselves important by the grass we keep? Are we masters of our land, our lawns? Perhaps. But the truth is, the grass is no greener on the other side. And if it was, it'd be harder to mow.
Historically, I have seen the American Dream come to fruition through tiny blades, varying in hues, of green grass occupying land of the middle and wealthier classes. The less fortunate either tend their garden themselves or prefer a more natural look that requires no maintenance. But peoples' focus on their lawns reflect more than their socioeconomic standing. As life gets more hectic, your lawn (like your desk) evokes satisfaction and clarity when organized and well-kept.
As a country, we are young. We have not gone through the rigors of trial and error (failure) that older countries, like that of Europe. The settlers brought to America the ideals of land management and formal gardens that years of vetting hath wrought. We had a form of instant gratification in that early America. Instant knowledge of how to make each piece of land aesthetically pleasing and productive. When you see photos of town and city homes from the daguerreotype of the late 1800s, the gardens and grass were pristine. Two centuries later that instict still follows.
Nothing short of an alien invasion or severe draught will deter people from their lawns, myself included. I believe there is always a place for lawns in landscape. As Calvin said to Hobbes, 'You can tell how good your day was by the grass stains on your knees."
Michael Pollen suggests in his book 'Botany of Desire' that by way of evolution plants have made themselves attractive to humans, thus ensuring their survival. Grass is a beautiful case study.
Does a well-manicured lawn reflect upon us as a whole? Are Americans little princes and princesses that deign ourselves important by the grass we keep? Are we masters of our land, our lawns? Perhaps. But the truth is, the grass is no greener on the other side. And if it was, it'd be harder to mow.
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