Cutting Grass

I mowed the lawn (saying lawn makes it sound so much nicer) the other day for the first time this year. I love the smell of that first cut of grass after the spring rains have brought it to life! This could be because from the time I was 12 until I was 21, I cut grass non-stop ever year. It brought a sense of accomplishment and pride at getting a job done. I enjoyed it, though there are times I don’t want to do it. There is something about going out and starting the mower and making a couple laps around the perimeter of what you are going to mow and then making straight (okay, perhaps mine are a tad bit curvy) lines back and forth, systematically removing the tall shoots of green from the ground. I know as the year wears on and I’ve had to mow close to 30 times, and the yard gets dandelions, and then turns brown, and the heat reaches 100 degrees, I’ll not want to mow anymore. That first mow though, the one that lets you know spring is here, will always be something I enjoy. Even when I’m old, I’ll probably sit on my front porch and smell the freshness of it while the neighbor kid cuts the grass for me.