mowing again

"I love cutting the grass this time of year. Its lush green color and rich scent spill into my psyche. The tidy definitive rows do something for my love of orderliness and sense of accomplishment. And when I mow I wish I could be a child in our yard. My mower turns a corner under trees that would make wonderful tea party places or passes over expanses of lawn begging for blankets spread out for doll playing. There's a few potential climbing trees and tall bushes for hide and seek. Mowing affords time for my mind to deliciously wander back to childhood and visions of delight in simple things. An hour later muscles may ache, but my mind is refreshed like I've been on a short holiday."

So went one of my first posts nine years ago this month. One-thousand, four-hundred and fifty-one posts later I'm still at blogging, and haven't yet run out of things to say. Close--yes, but not yet.

The lawn is lush and green in this first blush of spring. I still love mowing when it looks so beautiful after I finish. Later in the summer when it's so hot and dry, it's a different story and not so fun.

Now nine years after that post, mowing is a little different. I no longer have those childhood dreams as I mow around shady trees because, sadly, those big old trees in our front yard are now gone, replaced by new ones that are stretching up but yet to provide shade for those childhood dreams of play.

And after six months off from yard work, I mowed for the first time this week with my new knee. It was wonderful. A year ago the twists and turns around the yard were painful. Now the pain is gone. A little bit of newness all around this spring. And much gratitude.