Once upon a time there was lawn. It was not a Wimbledon Tennis Court Lawn, but it had been newly planted and everone was happy. There was grass that would make its way and grow. It even had an automatic lawn mower, lovingly named Mowey, that would roll over the lawn daily keeping it nicely neat and tidy, the cut off snippings of the grass being used as a fertiliser to encourage the grass to grow. Yes, it was a happy lawn.
One day the workmen with their heavy boots arrived and began to trample this lawn.
The workmen had no respect for the green grass of my home, it was in the way, and so they drove the supports of the scaffolding into the edges, they laid heavy tools and objects on the lawn, which were important for the work progress. The lawn fought back. It fought for 8 months during the summer, but it despaired. there was no longer a Mowey taking its daily mowing walk across the grass, and there was slowly less grass. One day the work was finished, but the builders left patches of brown earth with some brave remainders of surviving grass in between.
But we did not despair as we heard the light footsteps of the gardening team approaching on the horizon. They came to renew the building crimes that had been perpetrated to this lawn. They were the rescuers that came to save what could be saved. First of all they removed the beginnings of Autumn and leaves were removed from the surrounding flower beds. The earth was raked and the remainders of the still existing lawn were trimmed. A gardener’s angel was then appointed to sow the seeds of the new lawn, although it was already mid November, when temperatures were beginining to hover around 0°C during the night, but undaunted the lawn rescuing team continued. The seeds were sown and only time can now tell what could happen.
It is now a week before Christmas and it seems that the old lawn is fighting its way through the earth slowly but surely. The ground is covered with a layer of grass seeds waiting to go forth and multiply when the warmer weather arrives next year. Who knows if this will happen. Now and again an army of sparrows decides to go on a foraging tour to enhance their diet with grass seeds, but we are keeping a watchful eye on the situation. It can only get better, and one day our meager lawn will again be the green, green grass of home, perhaps.