Watching grass grow
It’s often evoked as the height of tedium. As, in, “Sitting through one of his lectures is like watching grass grow.”
I, for one, find it satisfying; thrilling, even.
You work the ground, spread the topsoil, broadcast the seed and fertilizer, and soak it with your garden hose. Then you invite the spring sun into the process. A beautiful and miraculous relationship blossoms,
You keep your plot watered. You monitor the progress, even when there is none to be seen. You know, without any evidence, that something is happening down there. You accept this on faith.
Around the 10th day or so you might see a suggestion of green, so faint that you wonder if it might just be wishful thinking. You crouch down for a ground-level view and - there it is. Not grass, exactly. More like green peach fuzz.
Eventually it’s real grass - splotchy at first, but, as the weeks pass, the gaps fill in.
Then you have to mow it.
