There are few things I hate in this world, but one of them is lawns.
Not necessarily YOUR lawn. I respect the American ideal of property rights, and therefore believe you have the legal precedent to do whatever goddamn stupid thing you want to do with your lawn. You all seem to have the same exact idea, however: clear-cutting the myriad flora forming a complex, beautiful ecosystem around your living quarters and replacing it with a single, dull species: grass.
My beef is with MY lawn, because I want to subvert this perverse more by letting my lawn grow into a lush, verdant meadow, but cannot, because I rent, and there are certain agreements in place to prevent me from doing this.
So I’m tasked with gassing up the ol’ riding tractor and mowing down the plants to their ankles, disallowing any interesting species from flourishing. I notice with horror this involves killing a lot of animals, too. I picture the insects mounting terror as the roar from my Craftsman begins to vibrate the ground around them, how they scream for their precious bug-children to run, and, whatever you do, don’t look back….NEVER look back.
My lawn is quite large, so it’s not even an EASY slaughter. No, I spend HOURS massacring God’s creations, staring straight ahead and pretending not to hear the flowers and butterflies screaming for me to stop.
Oh yes, I realize lawns are convenient — they are easy to walk on, and, I dunno, look tidy — but I think, aesthetically speaking, they are ugly, a razor-cut monoculture.
There is PLENTY of cement development in the world for humans to walk on; why sacrifice more dwindling nature? That’s another thing: people rarely even USE their lawns, so they’re eradicating a small ecosystem for the few days a year they walk to their property lines, perhaps to have a firm discussion with their neighbor about keeping their side of the lawn in order.
A good compromise is to mow wide paths in one’s lawn. That way, both nature and civilization have their piece, and the owners have lovely fields to look at while strolling around their property.
I was unable to implement this plan on my own lawn, because, again, I rent. It marked the first time in my life I had the desire to own a home, to continue the American ideal of property ownership.
Because then I can do any goddamn crazy thing I want to. Until the neighbors complain.