I am disturbed by the demanding vision of the all-American lawn, metaphor for our relaxation ethic. Yes, it is finally spring in Cloudhaven.
Tulips are up.
Cherry and apple trees are in glorious blossom. The air is warm and breezy. But, to my Ecuador eyes, as I power walk through suburban drives and lanes, it is the vast expanse of manicured lawn that dominates the landscape. This morning I saw a woman pushing a big Craftsman mower to skim off a half-inch of overgrowth. Another man pushed a wheelbarrow of dirt out to the curb to fill in a tire track so that the lawn would be perfectly smooth.