A long, mild and pointless ramble:
I moved into this house two years ago this August. It’s a nice, quiet little ranch in an unincorporated area of the Chicago southwest suburbs. Police and fire is through the township and it’s in a nice school district plus I can do things like burn leaves and water my lawn when I want due to a lack of local town ordinances. Really, the only “downside” is a lack of curbs and sidewalks. I have neighbors on both the left and right, the ones on the left don’t matter. As for the ones on the right, they seem like nice enough folks though I never got chummy with them.
So on Friday, I get a call at the office to find out that my mother had stopped by and decided to plant some flowers and things at the house. My mother lives in a townhouse cared for by the homeowner’s association so, when she feels an itch to plant something, my house is where she decides to do it. So my mother is planting when the neighbor comes over. She (the neighbor) starts complaining to my mother that I don’t mow the back lawn enough. She then says that the last time I mowed the lawn, it was eighteen inches high and that, when I mowed it, I ran over a family of rabbits and left them to die in the backyard and be picked apart by blackbirds the next day.
Now, there are so many things wrong with this, it’s hard to know where to begin. First off, Kentucky bluegrass does not grow to 18" under any circumstances. So, perhaps she was exaggerating for effect. Be that as it may, the idea of me mowing through even 12" with my little 2.3hp Toro is laughable. The idea of me mowing through 6" is a joke. The lawn was at its usual height when I mow it, four inches – tall enough to be shaggy and need a mowing but leaving enough that I’m not walking on stems and dirt when I’m done. I’m of the feeling that a lawn should be a lawn and comfortable to walk on, not a green prickly carpet. I should point out that my neighbor’s yard is surrounded by a 6’ high privacy fence anyway. The only way they can see my yard is to do a “Kilroy Was Here” and peer over it on their toes.
Incidentally, my mother already knew she was full of it because my other lawn mowing thing is that I never bag it, leaving instead of mulching plate on there. When I let the lawn get too high, you can always see rows of clippings after I mowed.
So then, about the rabbits. I have no idea what this psychopathic bitch was smoking when she came up with this story. I can pretty confidentally say that if I was to run over a nest of rabbits, I would see them, hear them and feel them as they went through the mower. I would also notice that I was trotting through a field of gore as I passed over them. Suffice to say, I did not run over a nest of rabbits. I do get rabbits in the yard (probably my 4" grass) and perhaps one got nabbed by a cat or something in the yard but no bunnies died by my hand. That story my mother politely discounted immediately. I’m the type who brought home every stray beast he came across as a child. My mother spent years of her life trying to raise orphaned rabbits, squirrels and various birds as I read her tips from Ranger Rick magazines. I still practice a strict “catch and release” program on spiders in the house where I get them onto a bit of newspaper and shake them outside the back door.
I’m upset. I’m at the office, hearing about whatever inane stories this woman was telling and feeling pretty pissed. I recall the fact that, according to my son’s sitter who has lived in the area forever, the area has no lawn ordinances and am actually flipping through a prairie seed catalog (I work for a landscape company) at my desk, looking for what native mix will grow the tallest and how much those “Native Prairie – Do NOT Mow or Spray” signs run for. The only thing that stops me is the thought that I might be selling in the next year or so and I doubt a backyard of six foot high native prairie would increase the value of my home. So I go home, vent on the phone to a very patient friend and go out for dinner with my mother.
On Saturday, kismet comes to bless me. In the backyard is my son’s playset. One of those wooden fort-ladder-swingset-slide deals. Under the ladder, a mallard has made her giant, salad bowl sized nest and has four eggs. As much as I would like to get under there to pull weeds, it seems that… well, per the State of Illinois website:
*The Migratory Bird Treaty and Endangered Species Acts prohibit the trapping, possession, or killing of most birds, their eggs and nests, without a permit. Only house sparrows (Passer domesticus), starlings (Sternus vulgaris) and pigeons (Columba livia) are not protected by state or federal law.
[…]
Once a protected bird builds its nest on your property, federal law prohibits anyone from disturbing the bird or its nest, eggs or young. *
Sadly, a mallard is not a house sparrow, starling or pigeon. I have set off a twelve foot “no mow” perimeter around the nest and playset and made sure to stay out of it this afternoon while mowing my yard. I would certainly hate to be accused of killing both bunnies and ducklings so I figure I’d better play it safe.
I made of a point of wishing my duck happy Mother’s Day today.
I saw no mention in the OP about burning leaves. They said they leave the cuttings on the law to act as mulch.