Sunday, October 9, 2011

Thinking Out Loud

Print PageI have been enjoying watching the weeds struggle to takeover the asphalt strip between my sidewalk and the street. I dream of the day when the tenacious roots break the stone apart and I am able to pick up the pieces and throw them aside. I wonder "Should I strew wildflower seeds to help the process along? Should I surreptitiously drop spoonfuls of compost as I take my daily walk? Should I encourage (or discourage) my little dog to do his business on this arid strip? This morning I had the idea that with a little help from my neighbours we could beautify this strip of our city. I stopped and chatted with Tony as he planted his Fall Mums. He already had an established strip of grass when he moved into his house but thought my idea was a good one. One neighbour on board, twenty or so to go. Never having indulged in this kind of community activism I'm wondering what it will take to get the ball rolling. So far I have realized that I will need: - the city by-laws - someone knowledgeable about gardening - someone knowledgable about community organization What else am I missing in may plan?


Jane Enkin said...

Hi Mitzi,

Your post reminded me of this song.


God Bless the Grass
Notes: words and music by Malvina Reynolds; copyright 1964 Schroder Music Company, renewed 1992. People often think of this as an ecology song, but Malvina wrote it after reading Mark Lane’s book, Rush to Judgment, about the Kennedy assassination.

God bless the grass that grows thru the crack.
They roll the concrete over it to try and keep it back.
The concrete gets tired of what it has to do,
It breaks and it buckles and the grass grows thru,
And God bless the grass.

God bless the truth that fights toward the sun,
They roll the lies over it and think that it is done.
It moves through the ground and reaches for the air,
And after a while it is growing everywhere,
And God bless the grass.

God bless the grass that grows through cement.
It's green and it's tender and it's easily bent.
But after a while it lifts up its head,
For the grass is living and the stone is dead,
And God bless the grass.

God bless the grass that's gentle and low,
Its roots they are deep and its will is to grow.
And God bless the truth, the friend of the poor,
And the wild grass growing at the poor man's door,
And God bless the grass.

Mitzi Zohar said...

Thanks Jane! Those lyrics are exactly right.