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no room for hipsters

the occupation of Ashley and Levon



It is pleasing when you find yourself in life’s little metaphors.  When seemingly ordinary details take on more than you give them credit for.  Every day I am putting seed in the ground, literally.  I am a seed sower.  Either by professional equipment or by the sprinkled handful.  We use a machine which runs over the ground and abrasively cuts the existing root systems and top layer to give our new seed, the desired seed, a chance to take root.


Then we fertilize.  Repeatedly.  Some days we only fertilize, and shoot unwanted weeds with a backpack and a weed gun.

All day I plant and grow grass, thinking about what this little example can be representational of.  Dazed, if you want to call it that.

Grass is everywhere, but not always good grass.  Cared-for grass is given a name, a lawn, and someone cares enough to oversee it everyday.  Grass seed sits helplessly in the truck until its time is right to do something.  I hope it is patient.  Then its carefully handled or else misshapenly spilled on the concrete.

Take what metaphorical possibilities that you will from all of this talk about grass.  We’re only talking about grass, but then we’re still talking about grass.  If you see any grass today, let it remind you to look for significance in simple matters.  Maybe you’ll see some; grass I mean, or simple matters: even better.

Life has good design.  I don’t think anything gets overlooked at all.

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