If someone had told you in the summer of 2003 that there was going to be a blackout lasting almost four days you probably would have said "that sucks." But it didn't really. Most work was canceled, all food was barbecued, television did not exist, conversation returned as a leisure activity, civility reigned, the world slowed, people were all, finally, in the same boat. Here in Detroit it was a boat gently listing under long-absent stars. Unfortunately the power came back on and we returned to treating each other like we always have in the electrified world.
This summer we've been told the city can no longer afford to cut the grass. Basically, that sucks, but it doesn't have to. Already neighbors are working together to mow and reap the tall grass in parks and empty lots. But as other areas continue to grow, the opportunity exists for Detroiters to quiet the clamorous jangle which pops inside our heads every now and again. The voice which says we should move to the country, out to the middle of nowhere. Now nowhere is right around the corner, and a periodic visit may be just enough to stifle this chimera.
Walt Whitman, writing in the contemplative leisure of the 19th century, made no apologies when he wrote in "Song Of Myself": I lean and loafe at my ease, observing a spear of summer grass. It will take a few million Whitmans to observe all the spears in Detroit this summer. We should all be a Whitman and take advantage of the ponderable leaves, for surely it won't last. A few rainless weeks followed by a sweeping grass fire will most likely put a dramatic end to the summer of the tall grass. Things will return to normal, normal for here anyway, and we will look back on yet another placidly enjoyable time with fondness.
I can see it now, firejumpers parachuting between the houses to stop grass fires from spreading across the city.
ReplyDeleteHATR.
sheer poetry. i'll see you in the long grass my old friend.
ReplyDeleteso much depends on the red wheel barrow filled with rain... Or something like that
ReplyDeleteThanks for this refreshing piece.
I was upset when they cut the grass along the highways, it was so beautiful to watch the mature grass sway in the breeze. Then those monstrous 12 wheeled machines came and made a mess of it. For a moment my treacherous commute was softened with a hint of nature...no longer :/
ReplyDeleteThree paragraphs of almost perfect communication. Such a light touch, but a remarkable coalescence of observation, commentary, mood, reverie, and wisdom. Thank you, thank you.
ReplyDeleteI personally enjoy and love the tall grass and any other type of plantings that don't rely on the care of humans. Often the tall grasses flowing in the breeze are reminiscent of impressionist paintings. other states and cities use ground covers, shrubs, and trees, and we should do. We could get rid of a large cost and provide beauty in return. Near the howard street exit on the lodg, love the way the shrubs arc and hang over the freeway walls.
ReplyDeleteFor what it's worth, more tall grass will be falling this Sunday! Two parks, a tree farm and a number of vacant lots.
ReplyDeleteHATR.