The Zen of Mowing

Ah, the zen of mowing. There's just something about it. After wandering through 3 feet of random weeds, there's something so fulfilling about the neatness of a lawn in the vineyard.

Not that it is the green-ness of grass by any means. I mean, take a look at the photo, but it's now orderly and my worry about the vines being completely taken over is at bay for now. There is such a satisfaction in having a task completed.

Yet it's more than that. When I'm sitting on the tractor being jiggled to death by the mower on the back end, smelling diesel exhaust, and feeling the heat of the engine, it feels like life. Slowly moving down the rows, the mower spinning away at high rpms just inches away from the vine feels god-like. To take life or to give it.

Travelling down each row, skilled at moving the tractor-mower as one without harm to the vines is cathartic, like knitting, except with something that would happily run you down and chop you into bits if you didn't pay attention.

My mind starts to wander when I get to the 10th vine only to be jolted back again into reality realizing I'm too close to the next vine. "Move it or it'll be toast!" my mind shouts out. With this kind of scenario one is required to be present.

Present in every part of the action. Is the tractor running okay? Is it almost out of gas? Is the mower linkage loosening up due to the vibration? Is the mower too low, too high? Should I stay in the row crease or should I move closer to the vine to really cut down those close weeds? All this rolls around in my mind the entire time I'm mowing. No room to think of anything else.

Zen. See I told ya.

Remember enjoy and imbibe.