Yesterday, I took the opportunity of a few spare minutes to quit my ivory tower and do a bit of leaf raking. We have two ash trees, an apple tree, a maple, and 12 grape vines. They all shed their leaves in the fall, but they don’t have the decency to drop them all at once. No, they make certain that I must rake the entire yard twice.
Sure, I could take the easy way out like the neighbors and run a lawnmower over the works. Of course, I don’t because, because, well, because I didn’t think of it until just now.
In any case, while I was raking I waxed philosophic as is my want in the midst of manual labor. I was thinking that if I left this carpet of leaves on the ground it would eventually kill off the grass. I could not let this happen, as I need the grass to provide me something to mow in the spring and summer and autumn. It reminded me of an article I read long ago that hypothesized that wheat has us enslaved. It uses us to coddle it, protect it from insects, plow fields for it, kill off its competition, and distribute its seed every spring.
Indeed, it is the same thing with the lawn, a close relation of wheat. I rake, fertilize, and give it a periodic hair cut. I am a servant to what? grass. I suppose it is the destiny of man to become a slave to a plant. And when we are done, we ourselves are planted six feet under it.
