Growth – A Photo

This is a grass verge, between the pavement and the road in a residential area in Helensburgh.  The local council long since abandoned the cutting of these public areas of grass, so it is left up to the residents to keep them in check; and some are more diligent than others.  I like to think that this bed was left on purpose to allow the buttercups to flower, and on a bright early morning it was a vibrant display of brilliant green and yellow.

It is, though, a reminder of the relentlessness growth potential of grass. A number of years ago I wrote a short story, Growth,  in which the tension in a family relationship was enacted through fighting over who would mow the lawn, and how well they would do it, with a teenager rebelling against the straight neat lines required in the process by mowing in a zigzag pattern to infuriate her father.

Inevitably it was only a temporary victory as in no time at all the grass had grown again, and the mower was out on the lawn again within the week.

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  1. May I read your story, please?


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