Our meadow was mowed yesterday – part of an annual activity here in Oysterville.  All along the east side of Territory Road (the only remaining street that runs the length of the town), there is a wide swath of meadow land between the houses and the bay.  It is all private property and unbuildable because of wetlands considerations which most of us consider a good thing.  We love those open spaces that give Oysterville its special ambiance.

During the summer the meadows are high and dry.  The native grasses with their red tassled tops grow tall, some bird species nest there, and little children delight in trying to walk from one household to the next by ‘instinct’ rather than by sight.  By the end of summer, we begin to lament that our view of the bay is impaired and look forward to “mowing time.”

Traditionally, we wait until any nesting birds have flown but are careful to schedule the mowing machine before the rains come and the ground returns to its soggy boggy wintertime condition.  Of course, in usual Oysterville fashion, not all of the neighbors agree in this matter.  For reasons unclear to me, for instance, the neighbor south of us has her meadow mowed in late spring, eliminating summer habitat but, perhaps, enhancing the view.

The neighbors to our immediate north have had a “no-mow” policy for several years.  It will come as no surprise to those familiar with our area that large clumps of gorse (a noxious weed) have taken hold there and the blackberries are beginning to block their view.  Soon, no doubt, the alder trees will get a foothold and the meadow as we have known it will begin to disappear.

Interestingly, their refusal to mow is based on their desire to preserve animal habitat – especially for deer and bear and coyotes.  We doubt that any self-respecting four-legged wildlife would choose that patch in mid-village to hunker in, though they regularly visit meadows and lanes and gardens, no matter what.  On the other hand, we have noticed that the brushy growth on that property is leaving fewer and fewer open areas where the rain and tide waters of winter can collect.

In a way, that’s our gain.  When our meadow becomes a lake during the rainy season, we are treated to myriad flocks of ducks and geese feeding and resting within a bird’s eye view of our windows, you might say.  Since the meadow next door is becoming overgrown, they settle down in even greater numbers in front of our place.  It always reminds me of that old nursery song, “Over in the meadow in the sand and the sun lived an old mother ducky and her little ducky one…”

I guess it comes down to what habitat and for whom and when.