I like to think that there are two different kinds of people in the world. Actually, to be more accurate, there are many different kinds of two different kinds of people in the world. Which is kind of like saying we are all the same, or we are all different. Like everything is either perfect, or everything is imperfect. Personally, I like to air on the side of everything is perfectly imperfect, in a perfect world. In a perfect world that is made imperfect by us “supreme beings”, that tend to make a perfect mess of things that would otherwise, inherently move toward a perfect balance. Which is to say, everything here fits into the whole rather perfectly, save for us. Humans. Which says really nothing at all, perfectly.
So, back to many different kinds of two different kinds of people. There are nose breathers and there are mouth breathers. Didn’t your mother ever warn you that you’d catch flies with your yap hanging down past your privates? There are morning bathers and there are night bathers. Night bathers, well that’s obvious, want to wash off the collected dirt and debris left after a long day of sweat and toil, while morning bathers, well, what have you been dreaming about? Then there are vegetarians and there are carnivores, peace lovers and war mongers, lovers and fighters, conservationists and gluttons, philanthropists and thieves, beggars and choosers, city folk and country folk, sailors and boaters, drivers and riders, politicians and anarchists (these might actually philosophically be the same), righters and wrongers (everybody comes armed with a good argument), rakers and leaf blowers (rakers becoming an endangered species, god rest their “do a job right souls”) and, among many others, finders and losers. Of course there are any number of cross over traits that can, and will inevitably be found in all of us. Take Robin Hood for example. Now there must have been one conflicted soul. Both a philanthropist and a thief, a lover and a fighter, and a peace loving war monger, I wonder what he dreamed of. But, as for now, I am at an intersection and I must make a choice. Left, right, or straight ahead, or perhaps this is a multidimensional intersection and I have up and down to add into the mix, or I have the option of going ahead or back in time. Too many choices? That’s life. For the purpose of this here “intersection”, I choose to focus on edgers and non edgers.
There are those, usually the man of the family, that wake up at six A.M. on a Saturday morning, have a cup of coffee, and head out to the great overgrown wilderness of their yard to tame the wilds. Firing up the massive horse power of their gas or electric powered edgers, walk the perimeter of their yard, hacking back the creeping, meandering, concrete eating grassland. They are obsessed with control, everything in its place and no further. Abstract geometric patterns, unknown in nature, emerge triumphant. These borders, like the borders between warring nations, are NOT to be crossed. And then there are those, like myself, who, in a way, revel at the determination of the natural world, even if that natural world is some Kentucky hybrid that isn’t necessarily indigenous to the immediate environment. We sit back on our porches and watch with reverence as natures will begins to take back what is rightfully hers. Indeed, in a relatively short period of time, left unchecked and unedged, nature would render our advanced, squared off grid of progress, another decaying and crumbling archaeological mystery to be deciphered and pondered by future intelligence. And that is a powerful thing.
Perhaps we are simply lazy, in my case, there can be no question about it, I don’t even like to mow my lawn. In fact, I don’t even want a lawn. If it can’t be eaten, or in some manner add some relevant amount of insect food, bird food, or just plain aesthetic beauty, I see no rational use in wasting precious resources feeding and watering it. Dogs will, from time to time, eat grass. Perhaps we should all have goats, I like goats. Or cows, cows are easy going, kind of messy, and apparently contribute a great deal of green house gasses to the atmosphere, but they mean no harm. The roots of the ornamental trees we plant, the climbing vines of ivies and berries, and the crawling, civilization munching rhizomes of of our graminoids, grasses, bamboo, and the like, in the end, will emerge triumphant. And the “edgers”, forced into a corner of their own making, will cower, sputtering edger in hand, defending their futility, and I am simply defending my lazy ways yes?