The Grass is Greener

“The grass is greener on the other side.” We’ve all heard the old saying before. As I sat looking out my second story window at the neighboring back yards I realized, unfortunately, it was true.

I had spent the past two months away from our home in San Antonio, visiting the Piney Woods and country roads of East Texas. My family and I took shelter here as the first news of Coronavirus began sweeping through the country. Although fear was present around us, joy and peace filled our borrowed home. It was laughter that rang in our ears as we spent our days beneath the sun. We walked hours around picketed fences, chased the elusive grasshoppers among the fields of Indian paint brushes, and explored the depths of the old towering adjacent forests. The fast pace that I was so accustomed to, was slowing down and I was reminded once again of what was important. I now cherish these moments as I look back upon them.

Change, however, is inevitable and it was eventually time to head back to our home in the suburbs of Central Texas. It was here, having returned to the hustle and bustle, that I looked out our second story window towards our backyard. I was astonished at what I saw. The yard once carpeted with a monoculture of lush green Bermuda grass, was now speckled with unwelcome weeds. Areas once full of the grass were now barren. Had I forgotten something? I thought about how I had spent the last two months. The same sun that had brought love and laughter to my family as we played outside, had also brought a drought to my yard and I had been so careless as to leave it unwatered while away. The grass of course looked just fine next door.

Embarrassed, as I was and being a landscaper by trade, I went to work. I knew just what to do. I spent the following days removing the unwanted visitors from my grass and brought back the cool crisp taste of water to my plants. I watched over the next few weeks as the stolons and rhizomes filled in the patches of brown soil that were once visible from the window. The grass returned to its glorious state. As I stood gazing at the yard from my porch, the smell of organic fertilizer present, I thought about my time hours East of where I stood, and I missed it. “The grass is greener on the other side”, I thought. The fast pace had returned. Sweat and heat pressed down upon me as I stood still thinking about the sweet memories. I sighed, and then… cries of laughter as my oldest daughter pushed passed me running barefoot onto the grass towards the swing set in our backyard. My youngest daughter soon followed after her crying “Wait for me!” “Push me dad,” I heard from our swing set. Joyful noise was present again as we played on the turf. And once again, time stood still. We darted back and forth and hid behind the massive pecan tree as we played tag, made gritty pies from the sand in our sandbox, and danced around sprinklers. It was heaven on earth.

Hours have been spent outside since our return home to the suburban neighborhood yard. And while I still often think about the joy filled time spent on our extended vacation, I am grateful for what it taught me. “The grass is greener, where you water it.” Treasured memories can be formed wherever you are. It just takes slowing down, looking around you, and watering what matters most.

The grass is greener, where you water it.

-The Hopeful Oak