This is an excerpt from this week's Picture This column.
As you drive down Crosby, one of the avenues that run the length of Paterson's Hillcrest section, you see rows of carefully maintained houses with tidy yards and meticulously manicured lawns. The mostly residential middle-class enclave is a bucolic oasis on the edge of a densely urban landscape. It is suburbia, full of order and sameness.I have to admit it, Goldman got me thinking about the need for a lush lawn. It really has become the suburban man's symbol of pride, hasn't it? A macho status symbol, at the detriment of the environment and our diminishing water supply.
But James Goldman's house on the northwest corner of Elberon and Crosby stands in stark contrast to the neatness that surrounds it. Goldman's is a remarkably dense patch, jammed with flowers, herbs, plants and fruit and nut trees, hundreds of varieties -- many exotic and edible -- planted haphazardly about the 50- by 100-foot plot.
"It looks odd because there is no lawn," he admits. "People are into lawns."Goldman looks down his block at the green squares in front of his neighbors' homes, and he sees misplaced energy -- literally. He recites staggering statistics about the ills of lawn production in the U.S. in terms of energy waste, noise and air pollution. Read on.
But I have to confess...I love my lawn! I love taking care of it, manicuring it, making sure it's an emerald oasis. I take pride in it. I'm guilty as charged.
This week, as I put down some Scott's Turf builder in my battle against crabgrass and clover, I couldn't help but feel a little guilty about my contribution.
I set my Speedy Green spreader to lighter setting...
