The first cut is the slowest

There are few activities I despise more than cutting grass. God made an entire suborder of animals that love trimming grass, are made perfectly for the job, and provide wonderful outputs along the way.

The first cut of the season on our urban farm requires great caution. Along the way, I’m clearing out stakes, bricks and pieces of foundation excavated for the fall plantings. Certain brush that was allowed to grow longer the chickens take at least a couple passes.

When it is complete, things look neat and orderly. I can’t wait until animal friends can join me in my edible landscaping artistry. Until we have sheep, I will just try to imagine my grass-cutting position in this ecosystem as a mechanically-assisted human carbon pre-digester.