Me & the Lawn
Shortly after my fourth birthday, my family moved to the rural property which I would come to love and cherish as my childhood home. Prior to this time, my family had moved frequently. Our new yard took up most of the 3.3 acres of land, which meant that as I grew older, I had the opportunity for ample practice in the gentle art of yard mowing.
My compulsion for making things around me be neat and orderly even extended to my chores. In fact, this obsession later made me become a world class yardman, awarding myself the prestigious "Hawthorne Award" for my efficiency! Well, it was almost prestigious.
I had been mowing for what seemed an eternity. The sun was blazing. I felt the sweat roll down my face. As I looked across the lawn, I noted that much of my day's work was already finished. The grass was trimmed evenly, with only a small section in one corner left to mow. It felt good to see how the rows were so orderly and how there were no weeds in sight.
I sat on the cool grass beneath the shade of a spreading oak tree. The smell of freshly cut grass filled my nostrils. I picked up a stick of seven or eight inches in length and noticed that it had the scent of pine.
I closed my eyes to inhale deeply of the intriguing aroma. I then whittled at it with a dull pocketknife until it was nearly whittled away. I decided that the stick should be my reward for having worked so hard on the lawn. I was quite sure that I would not be rewarded in any other way. The stick was also my friend, and I could relate to it; it was a loner just like me.
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