I found this humorous dialogue between God and St. Francis sufficiently sagacious to warrant posting. Apart from offering some provocative insights into the modern mania for pristine lawns, it also serves as a metaphor for so much of the nonsense that passes as sense in our increasingly crazy modern world, which, as the Bavarian political philosopher Otto Strasser observed, resembles a dust storm in a desert. Needless to say, and to preempt irate posts accusing me of heresy, I am aware that the “God” in this dialogue is not omniscient and is, therefore, not really God at all. I hope, however, that even the theological purist will put aside such quibbles in order to enjoy the joke.
GOD:
Frank, you know all about gardens and nature. What in the world is going on down there on the planet? What happened to the dandelions, violets, milkweeds 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 attracts 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 sensitive to 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 bale 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:
Now, let me get this straight. They fertilize grass so it will grow. And, when it does grow, they cut it off 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 aren’t 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 nonsense. At least they kept some of the trees. That was a sheer 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. It’s a natural cycle 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 to keep the soil moist and loose?
ST. FRANCIS:
After throwing away the leaves, they go out and buy something which 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 to make the mulch.
GOD:
Enough! I don’t want to think about this anymore. St. Catherine, you’re in charge of the arts. What movie have you scheduled for us tonight?
ST. CATHERINE:
‘Dumb and Dumber’, Lord. It’s a story about….
GOD:
Never mind, I think I just heard the whole story from St. Francis
Their has to be careful person to look around it, so that their should be no problem to face.
F1 Group
That was hilarious –
The only things I can grow with success are weeds – milkweeds being my favorite because they spread like…well, weeds – and attract monarch butterflies. Whereas the almost-domesticated herd of deer that has taken up residence locally, completely passes over the dandelions-a-plenty that so nicely dot the greenery and heads straight for the more expensive flora. Something about them not liking the color yellow, although they did seem to enjoy the rose bush I got for Mother’s Day one year…
As for the blanket of leaves that has begun to cover everything – I do get a bit nervous when my husband gets on the roof with the leaf blower to clean the gutters. It’s a necessary job as it helps to prevent water damage, although the squirrels usually seem to enjoy making a racket playing in the leaves and debris, before jumping from the rooftop to the branch of either a maple – whose seeds spiral down (and take root under the porch); or an oak, where the caps from its acorns make pretty neat (& loud!) whistles…
It is true that weeds – as all of nature, being God’s creation – can be beautiful. One that runs along roadways and is said to be a rather dominant weed in this area is a lovely purple color. It turns a deep red at this this time of year – and has actually inspired the ever-changing hair color of teenagers in this region, seasonally. =D
God bless you.