Grass

Emerald Isle

A king from some sandy North African kingdom was treated to a royal tour of England in the 1930's. After days of grand sights and sumptuous treatment, the king was asked by reporters what had impressed him most. The desert prince answered without hesitation. "Grass."

I understand perfectly the king's sentiments. I, too, was a desert resident before moving to Ireland. In the Mojave Desert between Los Angeles and Las Vegas we had grass, but it was safely contained in little clumps, small islands of green blades and yellowing stems scattered every few feet. Unless you were prodigal with your expensive water and planted a tiny patch of manicured lawn, grass was a plant of no great importance to the landscape.

Then I moved to Ireland. Here grass demands attention. First, grass is green. I mean intensely, vividly, brightly green. I know it's a cliché for Americans to gush over the Emerald Isle. But, when your eyes have grown used to the soft pastels and tans of the desert, grass is positively psychedelic. Grass is so green my eyes ached from looking at it during my first days of adjustment.

Not only that, grass is everywhere! You see it in fields, on house lawns, in the cracks of sidewalk pavement. You don't even have to hook up an irrigation system to make it grow. Nature is bountifully exuberant with the stuff.

A Way of Life

I was here more than a year before it really sank in that all that grass I was seeing was more than pretty scenery. That's when I made my next great discovery. Every Irish field is cut and mowed, by human machines or animals, at least three times a year. Different varieties of grasses and clovers are planted for different farming regimes. The green fields are plowed, disked, rolled, limed, cut, watered, fertilized, topped, and replanted. Grass is the mainstay of the agricultural sector and, because of it, Ireland is a land of milk and money.

Grass, I found out, can be more than a pretty lawn. Here it's a crop!

My most recent growth of grass sense came when my daughter asked me to help her carve out a small vegetable plot, a garden measuring 6 feet to a side. I confidently attacked the scutch grass covering the chosen site with a new shovel and great energy. Two hours later I was a tired wreck of a Dad, worn and aching. I managed to wrestle a square patch of dirt back from the grass - but just barely. For the first time in my life, I understood why a spade has always been regarded as an essential agricultural tool, and why the horse and ox were so highly prized by generations of plowmen and farmers.

Yes, grass is green and abundant, a pleasant covering for the Emerald Isle. Yes, it is a source of food and employment. One thing more: grass is tough.