Mudslides

I wish I understood how I ended up as part of a group that stripped lush grass off an eroding hillside only to replant it with widely spaced marigolds in the mud we left behind. It is especially confusing because Bellinghamsters are worse than hobbits when it comes to planting stuff. How could I have guessed that whoever planned the dig didn't have any idea of the mess they were making?
There isn't a beginning of the story that I can start at, but a few years ago I noticed that the gentle slope next to the main entry of Parkview Elementary School had been modified, for the worse, with the removal of large rhododendrons and other standard landscaping shrubbery leaving behind a ratty looking spot with sparsely planted flowers. When I mentioned to a stranger that children would have the new plants destroyed in a week, all I got was a dirty look. Which taught me to always find out if the person I am talking to is in any way responsible for stupid situation that I am criticizing. What are the odds?
The odds are pretty good when it turns out to be a neighborhood undertaking.
In following years the destroyed flowers were replaced with hostas, which are a shade loving plant, but still turn to mush under the repeated assaults of tiny running feet. The curved path around the concrete steps turned to mud that was eventually replaced with stepping stones. The area still looked like a mess, but planting sod is unacceptable in the era of Naturalizing.
So this year when Ryanne told me she wanted to stay after school on Earth Day to help clean up the grounds of Parkview, I thought it sounded reasonable. I can't go step by step how it slowly dawned on me that cleaning up meant making a bigger mess on the slope than existed before. But I would like to mention that people who were addressed as 'master gardeners' were there to give some direction.
One dead sapling, planted last year on Earth Day, no doubt, and dead from repeatedly entertaining children with its slender branches, was replaced with another sapling the same size. Other plantings were tender annuals and one obnoxiously invasive ground cover that I have been trying to dig out of my own yard for over twenty years. In a plot the size of the fourth grade classroom, dozens of adults and dozens of dozens of young children armed with shovels, trowels, and pitchforks re-landscaped for over two hours. When we were finished, I realized that I was now one of the stupid people that I had criticized only three years before.
Strangely enough, in spite of the comic mess we made, I feel proud for doing my part on Earth Day.
Nancy Sherer