To Mow or Not to Mow
Spring has sprung with a vengeance, and a lawn mower soundtrack has punctuated many of my excursions outside this past month. Grass cutting season is here again, and the competition has begun to see who can have the greenest, neatest, most weed free patch of organic wasteland in the neighborhood.
According to the National Wildlife Federation, Americans use 30 to 60 percent of the potable municipal water, and about 67 million pounds of synthetic pesticides annually for lawn care. My question is, to what purpose?
I have never understood the passion for neat, obsessively trimmed, unnaturally green squares of barren lawn. I’ve always wanted to live on land that was a nurturing place for wildlife, not a hazardous waste site where eating a poisoned insect could kill a bird, or grazing on herbicide drenched plants could snuff out an animal’s life.
We are on this earth as stewards of the planet, not invaders perpetuating an occupation. The point is to live in harmony with nature, not beat the planet into submission. It’s not a war.
My husband and I try to garden for flora and fauna. A 150 by 25 foot section of our yard has gone natural with native wildflowers (some might consider them weeds), trees and shrubs. We wouldn’t let a lawn chemical company anywhere near our lawn, and also try to plant vegetation that benefits wildlife in some way, either by food or shelter. The National Wildlife Federation has certified our yard as a Backyard Wildlife Habitat site.
To become a Backyard Wildlife Habitat we had to document with pictures and site maps that our property provided food, water, nesting areas, and cover for wildlife. We also had to promise to garden in an environmentally friendly way by mulching, reducing lawn areas, restoring native plants, and having a chemical free lawn. Brush piles dot our acre as cover for the critters that live here.
Sometimes, with all the wildlife our yard attracts, our back yard resembles a scene from Wild Kingdom. We’d have it no other way. I am so glad to live in a neighborhood with no anal “Association” issuing orders on how to maintain our own property.
So, this spring, when the frenzy of the neighborhood lawn competition threatens to overcome you, remember this quote by Rachel Carson, author of “Silent Spring” and one of the twentieth century’s greatest naturalists.
“The "control of nature" is a phrase conceived in arrogance, born of the Neanderthal age of biology and the convenience of man.”
Friday, April 30, 2010
THE CASE OF THE OVERZEALOUS LAWN WARRIORS
It was a bright and hot summer day. Bright enough to cause everyone to walk around looking like Secret Service rejects in their Maui Jim’s, and hot enough to fry the proverbial egg on the sidewalk, assuming you like dirt, and bug parts in your breakfast.
I was in my office with the door locked, slumped in my expensive custom made executive ergonomic chair, my Sportsman Guide Assuie crushable hat pulled down over my eyes, keeping out distractions, while I tried to sneak in forty winks. I’d been up all night absorbed in a Harry Potter novel, my hiney was drag’in, and I didn’t want my secretary, or Administrative Assistant as he insisted on being called, Bob, to find out I’d been sucked in by a kid’s novel.
That boy wizard sucked me in alright. I was as hooked as a trout on a fly rod, but that was another story.
I should have felt guilty about sleeping at work, but it was my office and I was the boss; Indigo Bunting, Environmental Detective. The only big shot I had to answer to was me, and I was too tired to yell at myself.
An annoying sound, as persistent as a fly at a picnic, buzzed around the room and landed in my head, making it increasingly difficult to concentrate on my siesta. My eyes shot open, and my fuzzy brain analyzed the distraction, then my nose confirmed it. The drone of a lawn care company dousing my neighbor’s lawn with poison was interrupting my meditation session.
My fellow citizens were neck deep into the “Trophy Lawn” competition. They lived for their green, neat, weed free patches of organic wasteland. My clover and wild violet inhabited yard gave them nightmares.
As an Environmental Detective, my question was, to what purpose?
I never let a chemical company anywhere near my yard, despite their happy trucks with pictures of animals on the sides. According to the EPA, 95% of the pesticides used on residential lawns are possible or probable carcinogens. Bob had orders to read the salespeople the precautions off an herbicide or pesticide label if they called. That’s enough to make my blood run cold, and I’m not easily frightened; I’m a professional.
It was impossible to snooze with that nonsense going on next door, so I straightened up, pulled up my hat, and yelled to Bob that I was taking the afternoon off. I was going to try to find a quiet place to resume my nap.
As I grabbed my bicycle lock key and headed for the door, I thought I might stop by the bookstore and buy a copy of Rachel Carson’s “Silent Spring” to send my neighbor. She’d give them plenty of chow for thought. Not fast food with empty calories, but healthy meaty fare for their consideration; something to make the ol’ brain pan chew a bit.
I stepped outside; the summer sauna, cranked up as high as it could go, enveloped me in steamy air and made me wish I had gills.
Birds were everywhere, belting out the Halleluiah Chorus in ten part harmony. As I got on my bike, a quote from Ms. Carson’s book predicting the empty and silent place the world would be with lawn poisons run amok came to mind, and made me shudder like a Weight Watcher in a Krispy Kreme.
It was a bright and hot summer day. Bright enough to cause everyone to walk around looking like Secret Service rejects in their Maui Jim’s, and hot enough to fry the proverbial egg on the sidewalk, assuming you like dirt, and bug parts in your breakfast.
I was in my office with the door locked, slumped in my expensive custom made executive ergonomic chair, my Sportsman Guide Assuie crushable hat pulled down over my eyes, keeping out distractions, while I tried to sneak in forty winks. I’d been up all night absorbed in a Harry Potter novel, my hiney was drag’in, and I didn’t want my secretary, or Administrative Assistant as he insisted on being called, Bob, to find out I’d been sucked in by a kid’s novel.
That boy wizard sucked me in alright. I was as hooked as a trout on a fly rod, but that was another story.
I should have felt guilty about sleeping at work, but it was my office and I was the boss; Indigo Bunting, Environmental Detective. The only big shot I had to answer to was me, and I was too tired to yell at myself.
An annoying sound, as persistent as a fly at a picnic, buzzed around the room and landed in my head, making it increasingly difficult to concentrate on my siesta. My eyes shot open, and my fuzzy brain analyzed the distraction, then my nose confirmed it. The drone of a lawn care company dousing my neighbor’s lawn with poison was interrupting my meditation session.
My fellow citizens were neck deep into the “Trophy Lawn” competition. They lived for their green, neat, weed free patches of organic wasteland. My clover and wild violet inhabited yard gave them nightmares.
As an Environmental Detective, my question was, to what purpose?
I never let a chemical company anywhere near my yard, despite their happy trucks with pictures of animals on the sides. According to the EPA, 95% of the pesticides used on residential lawns are possible or probable carcinogens. Bob had orders to read the salespeople the precautions off an herbicide or pesticide label if they called. That’s enough to make my blood run cold, and I’m not easily frightened; I’m a professional.
It was impossible to snooze with that nonsense going on next door, so I straightened up, pulled up my hat, and yelled to Bob that I was taking the afternoon off. I was going to try to find a quiet place to resume my nap.
As I grabbed my bicycle lock key and headed for the door, I thought I might stop by the bookstore and buy a copy of Rachel Carson’s “Silent Spring” to send my neighbor. She’d give them plenty of chow for thought. Not fast food with empty calories, but healthy meaty fare for their consideration; something to make the ol’ brain pan chew a bit.
I stepped outside; the summer sauna, cranked up as high as it could go, enveloped me in steamy air and made me wish I had gills.
Birds were everywhere, belting out the Halleluiah Chorus in ten part harmony. As I got on my bike, a quote from Ms. Carson’s book predicting the empty and silent place the world would be with lawn poisons run amok came to mind, and made me shudder like a Weight Watcher in a Krispy Kreme.
Earth Day
I admit I’m old enough to remember the first “Earth Day” in 1970. Actually, a short story I wrote for an “Earth Day” writing contest sponsored by ISU around 1973 was the first time I received compensation for my writing. My story, titled “Unbalanced”, won first place in the fiction category, and I received a whopping $5.00.
In 1969, US Senator Gaylord Nelson, a Democrat from Wisconsin, came up with the idea of “Earth day”. He was concerned that across the country, evidence of environmental degradation was overwhelming, and everyone noticed except the political establishment. The environmental issue was not on the nation's political agenda. People were concerned, but the politicians weren’t.
He thought that if he could tap into the concerns of the public, and direct the student anti-war energy into the environmental cause, he could generate demonstrations across the country that would force the issue onto the national political scene.
At a conference in 1969, Senator Nelson announced that in the spring of 1970 there would be a national grassroots demonstration on behalf of the environment. The result of his announcement was more than he could have imagined. Inquiries poured into his office from all across the country. When the first “Earth Day” was over, 20 million demonstrators and thousands of schools and local communities had participated.
Thirty nine years later, we’re not only still celebrating “Earth day”, but its message is as relevant as ever. We continue to consume or destroy our air, water, soil, forests, minerals, rivers, lakes, oceans, scenic beauty, wildlife habitats and bio-diversity. If you want a perfect example just look at the Gulf Coast right now. It's an environmental disaster that will haunt us for a long time; the ramifications are catastrophic. This is not a sustainable situation in the long term. We can stick our heads in the sand for a while, but eventually our bottoms are going to notice a problem. When it’s all gone, we’ll have nothing left except a wasteland.
If you want to have less of a negative impact on the earth, there are some simple things you can do right now without much effort. It won't put the oil back under the ocean floor, but it's a small step in the right direction. You can recycle your papers, reuse your water bottles, buy compact fluorescent light bulbs, compost, grow your own veggies or buy locally, etc. Also, if you’re interested there are many environmentally friendly sites to peruse such as Sierra club, and the National Wildlife Federation. They contain wonderful ideas to help the planet.
Let’s remember the words of Chief Seattle, Chief of the Suquamish people,
This we know: the earth does not belong to man, man belongs to the earth. All things are connected like the blood that unites us all. Man did not weave the web of life, he is merely a strand in it. Whatever he does to the web, he does to himself.
I admit I’m old enough to remember the first “Earth Day” in 1970. Actually, a short story I wrote for an “Earth Day” writing contest sponsored by ISU around 1973 was the first time I received compensation for my writing. My story, titled “Unbalanced”, won first place in the fiction category, and I received a whopping $5.00.
In 1969, US Senator Gaylord Nelson, a Democrat from Wisconsin, came up with the idea of “Earth day”. He was concerned that across the country, evidence of environmental degradation was overwhelming, and everyone noticed except the political establishment. The environmental issue was not on the nation's political agenda. People were concerned, but the politicians weren’t.
He thought that if he could tap into the concerns of the public, and direct the student anti-war energy into the environmental cause, he could generate demonstrations across the country that would force the issue onto the national political scene.
At a conference in 1969, Senator Nelson announced that in the spring of 1970 there would be a national grassroots demonstration on behalf of the environment. The result of his announcement was more than he could have imagined. Inquiries poured into his office from all across the country. When the first “Earth Day” was over, 20 million demonstrators and thousands of schools and local communities had participated.
Thirty nine years later, we’re not only still celebrating “Earth day”, but its message is as relevant as ever. We continue to consume or destroy our air, water, soil, forests, minerals, rivers, lakes, oceans, scenic beauty, wildlife habitats and bio-diversity. If you want a perfect example just look at the Gulf Coast right now. It's an environmental disaster that will haunt us for a long time; the ramifications are catastrophic. This is not a sustainable situation in the long term. We can stick our heads in the sand for a while, but eventually our bottoms are going to notice a problem. When it’s all gone, we’ll have nothing left except a wasteland.
If you want to have less of a negative impact on the earth, there are some simple things you can do right now without much effort. It won't put the oil back under the ocean floor, but it's a small step in the right direction. You can recycle your papers, reuse your water bottles, buy compact fluorescent light bulbs, compost, grow your own veggies or buy locally, etc. Also, if you’re interested there are many environmentally friendly sites to peruse such as Sierra club, and the National Wildlife Federation. They contain wonderful ideas to help the planet.
Let’s remember the words of Chief Seattle, Chief of the Suquamish people,
This we know: the earth does not belong to man, man belongs to the earth. All things are connected like the blood that unites us all. Man did not weave the web of life, he is merely a strand in it. Whatever he does to the web, he does to himself.
Monday, April 26, 2010
My Heart is on the Left
I am a liberal.
Yes, I’m one of those Godless, heathen liberals of whom everyone is so afraid. Only I’m not.
Oh, I’m a liberal all right, just not Godless, and since the definition of a heathen is, “one who does not believe in God or the Bible, unenlightened, or one who is neither Christian, Jew, nor Mohammedan”, I’m not a heathen either.
For far too many years, it’s been great sport by non-liberals to blame everything wrong in the U.S.A., no, the world, on us. And, now, the cacophony of sound is rising to a screeching crescendo.
About the only thing not blamed on liberals are natural disasters. Oh wait, I do remember hearing a couple “deep thinkers” blame heathen liberal policies for God smiting the Gulf Coast with hurricane Katrina, and since then, a few others. Sounded a lot like Muslim clerics saying that indecently dressed ladies caused earthquakes.
This carbon dates me, but I loved Arte Johnson’s “Wolfgang” character on the old “Laugh In” show. The smoking Nazi officer that used to pop out from behind various hiding places and comment on the show’s preceding sketch with his catch phrase, “Verrry interesting,….but schtoopid”.
That’s how I feel when politicians fling the “liberal” word at each other, as if they’re administering the “Coup de Grace” in a bullfight.
“You’re a liberal”
“No you’re one, and so’s your mother.”
“You’re a closet liberal.”
And so it goes.
Am I missing the whole point? Why is that an insult? Without liberals, there’d be no Social Security, or Medicare. The Peace Corps wouldn’t exist, and women would still not have the right to vote, which was a pretty radical position for those times.
Roget’s Thesaurus lists the synonyms for liberal as, “generous, abundant, lavish, broadminded, tolerant, enlightened, and charitable”, among others. Tree hugger, bleeding heart; OK, I’ll happily wear those labels.
I don’t flash secret hand signals to others of my ilk, or sneaky winks as I slink into my liberal clubhouse. I wear the label proudly, as did John F. Kennedy, as he defined the term in a 1960 speech.
“But if by a "Liberal" they mean someone who looks ahead and not behind, someone who welcomes new ideas without rigid reactions, someone who cares about the welfare of the people -- their health, their housing, their schools, their jobs, their civil rights, and their civil liberties -- someone who believes we can break through the stalemate and suspicions that grip us in our policies abroad, if that is what they mean by a "Liberal," then I'm proud to say I'm a "Liberal."
So am I. I wear my heart proudly on the left.
Yes, I’m one of those Godless, heathen liberals of whom everyone is so afraid. Only I’m not.
Oh, I’m a liberal all right, just not Godless, and since the definition of a heathen is, “one who does not believe in God or the Bible, unenlightened, or one who is neither Christian, Jew, nor Mohammedan”, I’m not a heathen either.
For far too many years, it’s been great sport by non-liberals to blame everything wrong in the U.S.A., no, the world, on us. And, now, the cacophony of sound is rising to a screeching crescendo.
About the only thing not blamed on liberals are natural disasters. Oh wait, I do remember hearing a couple “deep thinkers” blame heathen liberal policies for God smiting the Gulf Coast with hurricane Katrina, and since then, a few others. Sounded a lot like Muslim clerics saying that indecently dressed ladies caused earthquakes.
This carbon dates me, but I loved Arte Johnson’s “Wolfgang” character on the old “Laugh In” show. The smoking Nazi officer that used to pop out from behind various hiding places and comment on the show’s preceding sketch with his catch phrase, “Verrry interesting,….but schtoopid”.
That’s how I feel when politicians fling the “liberal” word at each other, as if they’re administering the “Coup de Grace” in a bullfight.
“You’re a liberal”
“No you’re one, and so’s your mother.”
“You’re a closet liberal.”
And so it goes.
Am I missing the whole point? Why is that an insult? Without liberals, there’d be no Social Security, or Medicare. The Peace Corps wouldn’t exist, and women would still not have the right to vote, which was a pretty radical position for those times.
Roget’s Thesaurus lists the synonyms for liberal as, “generous, abundant, lavish, broadminded, tolerant, enlightened, and charitable”, among others. Tree hugger, bleeding heart; OK, I’ll happily wear those labels.
I don’t flash secret hand signals to others of my ilk, or sneaky winks as I slink into my liberal clubhouse. I wear the label proudly, as did John F. Kennedy, as he defined the term in a 1960 speech.
“But if by a "Liberal" they mean someone who looks ahead and not behind, someone who welcomes new ideas without rigid reactions, someone who cares about the welfare of the people -- their health, their housing, their schools, their jobs, their civil rights, and their civil liberties -- someone who believes we can break through the stalemate and suspicions that grip us in our policies abroad, if that is what they mean by a "Liberal," then I'm proud to say I'm a "Liberal."
So am I. I wear my heart proudly on the left.
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