I Had To Mow The Meadow

Doesn't seem like that big a deal, really, unless you take the past year into consideration. I had to mow our hillside and flower meadow yesterday. The same place that was so barren, that looked like a moonscape, or where a bomb had gone off, following Hurricane Helene and the huge surge of water that came with her and tore this place apart.

The meadow after the storm - the concrete box at middle right is our septic tank, above it our driveway. At places the washout was 15 or more feet deep

Half of this hillside had been the garden we built out last year. The other half was where our septic field was (just part of that field) and the rest we'd thrown out tons of wildflower seeds over three years, leaving it an unmowed flower meadow between Spring and Fall. The flowers, over those years, had really begun to take over and were so beautiful late last summer. The most full the meadow had been to date.

Below: the meadow and fields below the hill pre-Hurricane Helene

The top of the hill was the earthen dam that was built to create the pond we had (40 or more years ago, we didn't put it there though we thought it was beautiful). When the water came down the mountains to our place it filled the pond then found it's way to the emergency spillway - though that was in place it was never intended to carry the flow that came with a couple feet of rain.

Where the water overflowed the pond, across the drive and washing away the septic field and flower meadow

It washed over the sides and washed away the hillside, the meadow, our septic and part of our driveway. It was so desolate. So disheartening. Jumping back to last year I'm not sure what I would have thought it would look like now, but certain it wasn't this. A meadow with flowers again, plus a couple trees we planted, some native shrubs, and lots of native grasses and other plants that found their way here on their own - and grew like crazy. I had to mow yesterday because we actually let it get out of hand...in a good way.

The field and flower meadow before mowing - all the dry looking grass is the annual rye we planted right after getting this graded and repaired.

And "mow" is putting it lightly. We hadn't cut anything since doing repairs over the past few months - planting annual rye grass this winter to just hold the soil, then native flowers and plants we bought to reestablish those. And lots of flower seeds. We let all of this grow as it wanted to, and boy did it.

The "soil" we had left after the storm was really more of a white hued clay, heavy with minerals and small to large rocks. Not the best to grow most things in...but I really saw something different yesterday. Something that epitomizes our journey through this past year, but also the resiliency of nature. She doesn't take a break, and immediately after the storm, much like us, she got to work replenishing what the land needed. What we needed. I needed to see this yesterday, to work on this field and see everything that we did last year doing what we'd hoped combined with that Mother Nature did as well. What we planted and the seeds she delivered.

Plus what I mowed added organic matter to this reemerging field, chopping it up and dropping it to the soil, something that leaves in the fall will also contribute to, and each year over again will build upon. Soon enough we'll have fields that don't show the scars of the storm, have a decent layor of topsoil, leaving that chapter as more of a memory than an open wound. As it is I'm delighted to have to mow this little corner of our place, to see the flowers we've planted come back to life and take back over. Hope I have to mow it a few more times before 2025 is done.

Golden Rod blooming in the flower meadow by the workshop

Joey and Scott Linwell - the journey rebuilding and recovery Linwell Falls at Rush Creek after Hurricane Helene