Think on This

By Sandy Long

Mow with the flow

She’s home again. And I’m glad to have her back in the shed. As soon as the rainy weather subsides, I plan to haul that old girl out into the sun and whack away at the grass that’s grown up in her absence.

When I dropped off “Century,” an antique manually powered reel mower, at a lawn mower shop, the proprietor’s eyes lit up over the clackety clue to our arrival. Surrounded by power mowers, he grinned and confided, “I love people who still use these things!” Was he being slightly sarcastic, or openly admiring? I couldn’t be certain, and felt a little reluctant leaving her there, kind of like dropping your dog at a kennel as you head out of town. “Now you’ll take good care of her?” I urged my mower’s tune-up technician. “You bet. You just have a small lawn, then?” “About 1,500 square feet.” “And you use this?” “You bet!”

A woman wheeling in a power mower, spotted Century and sighed, “They were the best kind.” I’m not about to argue and on the drive home, think of Century’s admirable attributes. There’s the lively little clicking buzz that moves a mild vibration up my arms as we cruise the yard together. Clipped grass blades spin off in festive arcs like confetti tossed at a celebration. Ball bearings tap in time as the wheels whirl the shooshing blades. I peer into dark holes under tiny metal snap caps, grab the oilcan and dress the old girl’s ancient joints. I revel in the feel of the wooden handles, burnished to a shine by the hands that have held her.

I think about her fuss-free qualities—no fossil fuels or extension cords, no struggle with startup, no disturbing the neighbors with mowing noise, no pickup truck needed to take her in for sharpening. Just Century, propped in the passenger seat of my small car; just Century and me, rolling around the yard. In the process of pushing, I burn a few calories, build a little “mower muscle,” breathe fresh air tinged with the fragrance of cut grass.

I was heartened to receive the July issue of “Organic Gardening” magazine and to find a comparison of today’s push mowers. Ranging in price from $90 to $230 and weighing in anywhere from 16 to 48 pounds, with ratings on user friendliness and performance, one thing seemed clear—there might still be a market for the manual mower.

Even so, I know only one other person who uses a reel mower. “You can exercise, meditate and get a chore done—all in one.” she enthuses. While mowing, she lets her thoughts flow with the whirling gizmo. And that, perhaps, is the best thing of all. No worry over projectile stones; no need to keep watch over the extension cord; no fussing with combustibles.

Minus distraction, my mind wanders freely. I think on Elmer Kurtz, mowing his little patch of lawn on the corner of Center and B Streets in Mahanoy City, Pennsylvania. You see, Century was originally his lady. If “El” wasn’t out mowing, most nights you could find him fishing peacefully on Locust Lake. Though he’s passed on, the attentive care he gave his mower made it possible for Century to carry on, to keep mowing meditatively, maybe, for 100 more years.