Fall, the Smell of Grass, and Shame

 Fall, the Smell of Grass, and Shame

By Bobby Neal Winters

We are coming into the Fall of the Year.  The nights are getting longer, and so the days are getting shorter. It’s getting a bit cooler, and there are more fallen leaves on the ground.  

And the grass is different. It knows something is going on.

This last is important because we are moving toward the last mowing of the year. We know not the hour that it will come, but all the signs that it is coming are in place.

I am being deliberately ambiguous here.  I don’t know how many more times I will mow.  If the weather conditions are right, I may have just mowed for the last time this year and simply don’t know it yet.

It’s hard to tell, because, as I said, the grass is getting different.  It’s fall grass.  What I mean to say is that the grass is a little different at every station of the mowing season, and the fall grass is here.

For one thing, the smell is different.  

Yes, the grass smells different--the mown grass that is--at every part of the mowing season. I state this as a plain fact without supporting argument.  If you know, you know, and if you don’t know words will not be able to convey anything to you.

I’d like to believe that if I were put into a coma and then woke up at an unknown time later with a blindfold on, I could tell what time of year it was just by the smell of the grass.

But if I couldn’t tell, there are people who could because the smell is different, and that’s a fact.

Not only is the smell different, the grass itself is not as heavy as it is at other times of the mowing season.  It is so heavy in the spring, I have to stop and change batteries in my mower.  As the season progresses and the relative amount of moisture in the grass decreases, I can get it on one charge.

Because of the current lightness of the grass, right now would be an ideal time for me to mow with my battery-powered mower except that it--much to my disappointment and shame--is broken.

Let’s talk about that.

Back in 2020, during the lockdown, I bought my first battery-powered lawnmower.  I liked it: I didn’t need to buy gas for it; I didn’t need to keep it oiled; it was quieter than my gas mower; it was easier to start.

I wrote about it.  I had people say they had read my article and followed suit by buying their own battery-powered mowers.

I felt good, like I was helping to save the planet from global-warming one lawn-mowing at a time.  They would put up statues to me; they would name a Monday Holiday after me.

Then after a couple of years, that mower died; se morto’.  Something in the safety system--the stuff that is put in to keep the consumer from killing or maiming him- or herself--broke down. 

I tried to fix it, but at that time there was precious little help online for a DIYer to fix a battery-powered mower.  I decided that maybe I’d just been unlucky, so I bought another.  Same make, slightly newer model.

After the same amount of time, the same thing has happened.  

This time I didn’t even think about buying a new one.  Fool me once, shame on you; fool me twice, shame on me.  Well, they fooled me twice.

In the intervening couple of years, there has been an increase in the battery-powered mower ecosystem. There is help online about how to fix it, and that is good news. The bad news is that most of that help boils down to getting around the mower's safety system.

Don’t get me wrong.  I don’t want you to think that I’m putting on airs.  I am from Oklahoma for goodness sake and safety isn’t a big concern to my people.  A siphoning hose for gasoline is referred to as an Oklahoma credit card after all.  The only thing wrong with that phrase is I don’t know of anyone ever giving any gasoline back.

The thing is that I am going to have to think about it a while. If I’m going to have to learn something.

Anyhow, I put the mower away in the potting shed, brought out the old gas mower, filled it with gasoline, and started it.  It only took about three pulls.  I went a little overboard and put some oil in it. It hadn’t had oil since at least 2007. You gotta love Briggs and Stratton.

I wear hearing protection while I use it, so at least it won’t hurt my own hearing, and I’m having to buy gasoline.

I also have a gasoline-powered chainsaw now, which is not only loud and produces carbon dioxide, but it cuts down trees.

I don’t think there are going to be any statues for me.

Bobby Winters, a native of Harden City, Oklahoma, blogs at redneckmath.blogspot.com and okieinexile.blogspot.com. He invites you to “like” the National Association of Lawn Mowers on Facebook. Search for him by name on YouTube.