The bags of soil have been there for weeks. Twenty of them, taking up a fair amount of space. Every time Irving looks at our lawn he feels pangs of a deep seated-urge to begin again. In the past several years he's seeded and re-seeded the front lawn repeatedly. Which is to say, each time Bell Canada came around to dig it up for repairs to their communication lines. From as close as perfect to a good green lawn to an absolute mess. Each time they completed the work, a contractor would come along and casually toss a thin layer of weed-tainted soil and a sprinkling of grass seed and leave. 

 

 

The last time this happened, the excavation work was so deep all kinds of construction detritus was hauled up from seemingly the centre of the earth. Gravel predominately littered the surface of what was once a decent lawn. Again, a thin sprinkling of soil, and grass seed. This time even the grass seed refused to sprout and all that could be seen was gravel and weeds. More weeds than we've ever seen before. Pluck them up with roots intact, dispose of them only to make room for more to erupt.

 

A cool day dawned today under a heavily cloud-crusted sky. So this morning Irving decided he'd spread that soil and put down grass seed again, seed mixed with fertilizer, and give it another try. The weather was perfect for it, and when he was finished, and we cleaned up the mess on the bricks where the soil had been dumped into the wheelbarrow, we took Jackie and Jillie off to the ravine for an early afternoon romp.

 

They had behaved for a change while we were all out at the front of the house. I took the opportunity to do a little gardening while Irving was busy putting down soil, and they wandered about back and forth between us directing proceedings with their usual casual authority. When we finished and put on their collars and halters they were pretty enthused.

 

In the woods we saw again that sole pussytoe plant, its flowers opening a little fuller each time we pass it. It's normally a meadow plant, but there it is at the side of one of the forest trails. The many intermediate-story privet trees now bear their black, glossy berries, and the sunflowers are doing some serious blooming standing tall on the forest floor. It's like greeting old friends when we see them after a year's absence every summer, taking their turn in the bloom succession of wildflowers.

 

As we descended one of the hills we came abreast a surprise when four Dalmations were clambering up the same hill, with a woman holding a young malamute on leash. Quite impressive to see four of these large, mature dogs all together. None of them interested in us, moving in a loose pack in a terrain unfamiliar to them, but of moderate interest. 

 

Finally, when we returned home, we could sit in the garden briefly just to relax, glad that the work of trying to restore the lawn has been done, and the rest is up to nature. It would be pleasant to see the grass return to its normal state of coverage, to complement the gardens which never seem to disappoint us in their colourfully full presentation.