You’d think it would be simple. Just get out the mower, run it over the lawn, no more clover. Right?
Not exactly.
On Saturday, I finally decided to overcome my inertia and go at the lawn. At first glance, of course, it now looks great. All the overgrown clover is gone, and all that’s left is some nice, green (well, a little yellow in spots) grass. Problem solved!
On closer inspection, though, I can see that I’m in for a very long haul with this lawn.
My front yard used to have some grass. When we first moved in, the builders had seeded with cheap grass just to keep the soil from washing away. The intention was that they would come back after the construction was done, rip out the temporary ground cover and start a new, healthy lawn.
They haven’t been back. And now, the lawn that used to have some grass is all clover. Huge swaths of it, overgrowing and choking everything else out.
They say that when you’re “in clover,” you’re living a casual, carefree life. No worries.
Ha.
All my life, I’ve tried to keep things smooth, calm, peaceful. I don’t like change, especially when it is outside of my influence or control. I suspect that’s one of the reasons I never rode roller coasters. Well, that and intense motion sickness.
My spiritual life lately has been paralleling my personal life, and both have been on a rather wild roller coaster. I feel like things around me are just tossing me back and forth. Just when I thought things were smoothing out, a radical turn in the track throws me in an entirely different direction. Just as things were slowing down a bit, the hill peaks and the ride drops down a hill I didn’t even see coming. Just when I think I can’t take the intensity any more, I roll out at the bottom and the ride takes a new turn.
Just like a roller coaster, though, there never seems to be a slow spot or a pause in the action. Every day is a new turn, a new hill, a new twist. Unlike a roller coaster, it doesn’t end in two minutes, letting me back out of the car at the station.
