Ultimately, yes, this might be a blog post about crab grass. But, in another way, to celebrate the hump of the week, it is also a hodge podge of a frequent sort found in this blog!
First, please visit the poetry feature by Patricia Clark, up now at Escape Into Life, with art by Jovan Todorovic. I read and admired Clark's book She Walks Into the Sea, and have asked her some questions about the current state of "nature poetry," so look for that mini-interview to be posted in the Escape Into Life blog in October.
Second, I'm still reading The Omnivore's Dilemma, by Michael Pollan, but will offer it to a friend, tomorrow, who needs to read it for her book group. Since I'm reading plenty of poetry and an advance copy of Mark Wisniewski's novel Show Up, Look Good, I can resume reading about cows munching grass later.
In the meantime, I am indeed pleased to report that my own back yard might please cows as well as rabbits, especially if we mowed even less than we do now. And since it's the back yard, we might not get a letter from the city! The front yard is pretty scraggly--two huge trees (roots, shade), extended dry spell. But if it gets over 8 inches tall, in an effort to encourage new growth and deepen the roots, you can bet the town will send a gentle reminder to mow. Nobody complains about the back yard.
So the back yard has: red and white clover, wild strawberries, crab grass, various bluegrasses, leftover lawn grasses, plantain, black cohosh, corn, violets (state flower), nettles, dandelions, spearmint, lemon balm, the various perennials and wildflowers I have planted in beds at the edges and corners, asters, raspberries, a bit of bedstraw, and scattered delicious as yet unidentifed prairie plants.
And a trailing, still-blossoming cantaloupe vine. I was warned that this would happen in this zone: lush growth and blossoms, death before fruition. (My life in a cantaloupe rind.)
Third, thanks again to Jonathan Koch for his wonderful art. Bartlett Pear from the Garden is new, and you've seen some of the others here before!
"You must change your life," said Rilke. So that's what I keep doing. I worked as an actor and director in Chicago, wrote for an encyclopedia, edited two poetry journals, shelved and retrieved materials in several libraries, walked beans, and was an assistant professor of English. Now I serve as Poetry Editor and Editor at Large for Escape Into Life, an online arts magazine, write & edit as a freelancer, blog "eight days a week," study the random, tend perennials, and listen to birdsong.