...or tries to...

Thursday, July 19, 2012

Greenbelt


Solomon has the right idea.

After a day of working to a radio program interviewing an author about the impending death of the middle class, after sitting so long at the computer that I could no longer feel the difference between my own body and the chair I was sitting on, after turning away from the roll of paper I taped to the wall for a photo shoot and listening to it tear from the wall and crush the stand I had carefully constructed, after having to run a malware program in case an infected website I visited had passed its Spyware onto my hard drive, (it didn't, but I found 65 cookies that were telling other systems exactly when I was looking for blue suede ballet flats)...You get it. After things like that and more, it was no small relief to go out back for a few minutes, just as the sun was starting to set, and stand in some grass.



The motivation was to cut some herbs for our pizza dinner, though that was just an excuse. What backs up to our house is not, in any substantial way, a yard, it's more a strip of land that keeps our neighbors a polite distance. It's a few feet of very sharp bermuda grass, a hedge, a cabbage palm, and some kind of a kind of walnut tree, (I think). I'm not growing or arranging anything that a real gardener would do anything but shrug at. But those three terra cotta pots of spindly basil and oregano and chives and cilantro, set into a calamity of ixora and umbrella plants: they're my plot, my crop, my bountiful harvest.





Yeah, I know. But what it's really about is a few minutes outside, a scrap of sky, a fringe of canopy, a strip of green stuff a hundred million miles away from Spyware.










And it makes for some really amazing pizza, too.


5 comments:

Daydreamer said...

Thank Heavens for Green!
For Grass, Trees, Basil... Toenails... and the Wisdom of Solomon!
Your Pizza makes me hungry...:):)

Sans! said...

That pizza does look amazing! Although I am not a fan of shrimps, I am a big lover of herbs.

Amy, your garden is so like mine, it's almost like you were taking pictures right outside my house:). This morning, I was just looking at the same grass blades and thinking I should call the gardener. I keep thinking I will feel right at home in Florida.

Amy said...

Betsy, Yes! Yes to pizza, grass, herbs, the Wisdom Of Solomon. Little joys are everything.

Sans, does your grass scratch like ours does? I grew up running around on rye grass, which is like a soft carpet. Of course, it would burn like kindling here.

I think we could enjoy each other's hometowns immensely!

Sans! said...

Of course it does, Amy :) . Trust me, almost nobody walks barefoot in the grass here ! is it also called cow grass over there? It's the cheapest way to turf so it is probably the commonest grass here. The rich uses carpet grass :):).

Amy said...

I'm pretty sure we call it Bermuda grass, but it's nicknamed Devil's Grass too, appropriately! Cow grass works for me...and yes, exactly, the golfing communities have the soft stuff, covering everything, the grass that looks like green velour. Yep.