Mowing the Lawn Is Therapy
I love the smell of freshly cut grass, in the morning, afternoon, or even in the evening. I believe that mowing the lawn is a type of therapy. I remember the first time I ever fired up one. I begged my Papa to let me try out the Riding Snapper lawn mower. He was extremely reluctant, but in the end he gave in. He told me to start slow with a little circle and maybe someday I’d get to move on into the apple orchard. It was there in the apple orchard, where I found that mowing the lawn was a type of therapy. Most of the time it was quiet, but I did have times where I ended up laughing too.
Once I got the hang of all the Snapper’s quirks; I began therapy. Therapy started when I turned the key in the ignition and set a speed. I didn’t even hear the sounds of the motor humming. I let up the brakes and began to steer my way off into the orchard.
I had two rules when I was out there. One was to not worry about anything that was going on in my life; and the second was it’s alright to daydream. I let my imagination run wild. I thought about everything and anything. This was my quiet time and I loved it. That apple orchard became my place of solitude, no one could bother me. If my day started out bad I always felt better after I was done mowing the lawn. You know the saying: Leave your bad attitude at the door? That’s what the apple orchard and the Snapper did for me.
When I wasn’t daydreaming or thinking, I was laughing. Usually I was laughing because I’d almost had a close call. I’ve had several close calls while out in the apple orchard; but they always made me laugh in the end. One time, I almost hit a woodchuck. I had two options open to me. One I could either swerve, and hit a tree or get stuck in a field. The fat woodchuck made his own decision to waddle back in the brush just in time. I was scared until I made my way back to the garage. After it was all over I laughed. Not, because I almost hit the woodchuck; but instead the absurdity of it all and how the woodchuck made his own decision. The next time I had a close call…I actually ran over a stump hiding in the tall grass. Again, I was a little scared until I figured out, by a stroke of luck, nothing was broken. I laughed again about the absurdity that took place.
Mowing the lawn isn’t just a chore. I believe that it’s therapy. It helps me sort out all the things I want to think about. Mowing the lawn gives me a chance to daydream. It gives me the change to laugh and be happy. I believe that mowing the lawn is therapy.
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