Tuesday, April 19, 2011
If it's green, love it
Depending on where you live, you may or may not know we are in a state of severe drought here in NM. In fact, I heard that AZ, NM, TX and FL are all off the charts for fire danger. It's no secret that Texas is under assault with wildfires right now, and we have a few of our own here in our fair state.
My heart goes out to all of you living near or in the path of a fire. I've been close, and I know what it feels like. Living here in the forest, we're always just one idiot or lightning strike away from the same fate. I say idiot because there are, unbelievably, still folks who think it's OK to burn their brush and/or trash in this area. Never mind that our local fire department trucks say "Learn not to burn". I fear this is yet another sign that my fellow citizens may not always read .
Anyhow. As I was coming in from the dog yard today, I found this little dandelion plant. I raced back into the house for my camera. What's so great about a dandelion, you ask? Well...for one...it's a sign of life that is persisting despite the dry ground (see photo I took in our yard this week...we seem to have skipped mud season). The flowers alone brought me pure joy. There are few signs of new life up here except for the lilac and rose bushes, which seem to carry on despite the worst of situations. To find these bright little flowers was like someone sending me a sweet bouquet of smiles. Never do I recall being so happy to see a dandelion.
As a kid, I grew up with my father nurturing a front yard full of dichondra "grass". Only today, after searching the internet, did I learn this pesky stuff was not even a true grass, but rather a perennial herbaceous plant of which there appear to be several species. He babied that "lawn" like it was solid gold. Heaven help you if you fouled and set foot on it, and this wasn't always easy for a kid to manage. I grew up with great disdain for the idea of a lawn, or worrying about being so fussy about Bermuda grass (his arch enemy). My attitude: if it's growing, and it's green, and it's not dangerous...love it.
In thinking back about dad and that "lawn", I can picture him still, standing in the middle of it, hand watering with the hose and sprayer, and a transistor radio plugged into his ear as he listened to Vin Scully and the L.A. Dodgers. I get it now...he needed a place of his own, somewhere to go to get away from the rest of us, a sanctuary. That's a lesson, right there, to learn to find your peace where you can.
Dad, if you happen to be editing my writing from wherever your next life has taken you, I hope you read this post and accept my apology.