The curious symptom of lawn mowing

Around this time of year all kinds of people in America begin the curious ritual of standing behind a cutting machine and, all through the spring, summer and into the autumn months, they push that machine back and forth and back and forth over a patch of grass again and again and again. And again.

Most do it once a week. Some more than once a week.

No one thinks anything is amiss.

No one thinks to call the psychiatrist.

In fact, just about everybody revels in this practice. Sears, the Home Depot, Ace Hardware, all of those guys, make millions on it, selling a numbing array of cutting machines, along with countless chemicals and other elixirs to put on the grass.

In my town there is a guy that fixes these machines. The outfit is called Gophers. He picks up and delivers, and he is one busy guy.

I must admit I do it too. Now in my fifties, I try to calculate the equivalent of just how many acres of lawn-area I have mowed -- back and forth and back and forth -- over four decades of engaging in this sort of behavior.

I have no idea how many acres, but my mind's eye sees a vast expanse.

So vast.

Vaster than the vast right wing conspiracy. Much vaster.

Ahhh ... those little symptoms of having once been given dominion ...

Logos2Go

Genesis 1.28 And God blessed them, and God said unto them, Be fruitful, and multiply, and replenish the earth, and subdue it: and have dominion over the fish of the sea, and over the fowl of the air, and over every living thing that moveth upon the earth.

Deuteronomy 11.24 Every place whereon the soles of your feet shall tread shall be yours: from the wilderness and Lebanon, from the river, the river Euphrates, even unto the uttermost sea shall your coast be.