Fr. Dale Matson
I have been walking in my own
neighborhood more as I recuperate from two recent surgeries. It is about 7/10th
of a mile around my block of nice homes in an ungated California community.
This micro community near Woodward
Park is a veritable gold mine for contractors. The subdivision is about 30
years old and the infrastructure is in constant need of updating and repair.
One fact is both a blessing and a
curse. The mature landscaping is in a constant state of flux. In this block, the
amount of landscape contractors at any given moment in time is impressive. Many
lawns are now being replaced with artificial green carpets (synthetic lawns). There are tradeoffs to this approach.
We still do most of the landscape
maintenance on our home but we did hire a landscape contractor to “mow and blow”
the front yard which has a steep hill that is too difficult for our elderly
legs.
Yesterday, as I did an afternoon
walk around the block, I passed a husband and wife landscape “team”. The woman
was mowing the lawn and the husband was on a ladder trimming the trees. I am
not used to seeing women participating in the landscape maintenance business.
Most of the landscapers here are Mexican American.
Additionally, the driver’s door was
open on their pickup truck and when I glanced inside, I was a bit surprised.
Sitting on the front passenger seat was a girl about 9 years old. She was doing
her school homework. I don’t know if the adults were her parents or
grandparents but it was obvious that they were her custodians. I can’t get the
image out of my mind.
It seemed to me to be a logical
progression. The grandparents probably worked initially in the fields dressing and
picking fruit as day laborers. The parents started a landscaping business and
the girl would be the next generation that would probably not be involved in
agriculture/landscaping.
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