counting the cost

it was the landscape that first sold me on the place. there wasn’t a dandelion or weed anywhere to be found. the turf was thick, lush green. a nice variety of flowering plants, shrubs and bushes added beauty and serenity to the place, and i am a sucker for beauty and serenity.

we moved in and it was like somehow inheriting a perfect body...all i had to do was maintain it. the hard part--getting it to that idyllic state in the first place--was already done. and maintenance would be easy, right?! we had sunlight aplenty, so really, if i just added water, the occasional fertilizer, and kept things trimmed, it’d always be beautiful.

we ran the sprinklers liberally. the lawn stayed lush, thick and green through those hot summer months. things were going along fine. 

then the first water bill arrived.

we had moved from the verdant climes of new england to the desert. water in our previous place ran about three dollars a month, and that was for a full half-acre of grass. it never occurred to me how much our new postage-stamp sized property in the desert would cost to keep green.

after two months of pouring purified drinking water on it, i realized we couldn’t afford to maintain it like it had been. we simply didn’t have the same resources to give it that another owner might. neighboring yards benefitted from the help of yard service companies to regularly mow, weed, trim and water plants. sadly, for our little yard, those days were over.

it didn’t fall apart all at once, but over the years, that perfectly maintained landscape has disappeared. in spring and fall, the turf looks somewhat reasonable if you don’t look too closely. but as the temperature rises, as the sun relentlessly beats down on it, the tender grass withers and dies. hearty weeds move in, and ironically they are the reason there is any green at all now. 

i thought i’d be able to keep it nice. not once when i bought the place did it occur to me that this weed-free, lush, welcoming landscape would ever turn scraggly, wither and die. that it would ever be a place i stopped enjoying. that it would ever weigh me down instead of filling me with delight.  i thought i had the strength to do the work, the resources to supply it with whatever it needed. 

it is not completely hopeless, of course. the foundation is still there, underneath the mess. if i made it a high priority, i could spend the hours upon hours that it would take to trim back, dig up, and root out all the undesirable elements. and once that was done, i could find a way to acquire the money and dedicate the time necessary to purchase and plant new, appealing additions. perhaps others would be willing to put in some effort as well, restoring what once was.  but even if it was just me working on it, i could devote myself to creating anew, a place of beauty and serenity that would be welcoming and appreciated, enjoyed by all. or at least by me...even if no one else takes pleasure in it. 

i haven’t given up hope yet. but it’s hard. without knowing what the future holds, deciding what to do - where to apply my energy and effort - is a difficult choice. no thing of beauty created is ever a wasted effort, but there are so many different options, so many unknowns, i haven't figured out which direction to go.