So I got a little bit of rain last night at my house. It was
all the things that rain in the desert are: cooling, aromatic, tempestuous. Rain
in the desert is also strengthening, alleviating, and magical. Rain has some effect on us that opens the creative spirit. Of all the things
rain in the desert may be, substantial it is not.
I awoke thinking how unbelievable
it is to me how many calls I get this time of year from people putting in lawns.
I appreciate a small lawn for the kids to play on, or even one to create a
comfortable place to entertain. But the calls I get aren’t for these types of
lawns; a small lawn doesn’t cover 2500 square feet. I almost always bite my tongue
and walk them through what I think they should do to maximize their efforts. But
sometimes I lose it. When someone calls and says that they plant a lawn “every year
and it always dies”, I lose it. I don’t think I’ve ever called a customer an
idiot (out loud). I‘d like to think that I’ve changed a couple of minds through
conversation. I’m pretty sure that after talking (what I call) sense, a
customer has hung up and called me some harsh words.
One definition of
insanity is doing the same thing repetitively while expecting different results.
Another definition might well be planting a lawn in the desert without an
irrigation system installed. Or planting sod over the shallow thirsty roots of
a mulberry tree. Or planting seed but not keeping the dogs or the kids off it
for a year. Or sowing seed and forgetting to water it. Or planting a lawn and
later blaming everything else for its failure except the fact that THERE ISN’T
ENOUGH WATER HERE TO SUSTAIN A LAWN!
I then got to thinking that there are so many environmental variables
in this climate, that it surprises me we aren’t all insane. Consider what it
takes to grow a tomato… sun, water, soil. That’s pretty much it. In the rest of
the world, we provide the tomato, and nature provides the rest. Not here. Here,
we have too much sun so we have to shade our tomatoes (the nursery tag says “full
sun” because they were grown in Arkansas or California or some such), or there’s not enough sun to ward off the
late May freezes ( I used to have
neighbor who swore she “had snow here on the fourth of July). There is never
enough water, but when it does rain, it comes with such force as to physically
damage the plant. Our soils aren’t that bad, but everybody swears it’s the
source of ills. I’ve heard “crappy Albuquerque sand”, and “that really
compacted sandy dirt.” So they tinker with it, adding all sorts of non-sense
until the whole web of micro-biota is sent out of whack. Then the accusations
start flying.
But I digress…
My favorite word is petrachor. Look it up. I’m fairly certain
it’s a real word.
