The Sneaky Mexican Wire Grass Caper

I got a gallon of water. Trudy grabbed a bag full of Mexican Wiregrass given to us yesterday by a couple Wire Grass farming friends. And we grabbed a hand shovel and a claw for scraping dry dirt.

We took those things and walked down the street, certainly looking out of place (suspicious, Trudy supposed) to anyone watching. But who was watching? Air conditioners buzzed and indoor television screens lulled the neighborhood, tired from a day's work and frustrated from the commute home. So although we certainly looked out of place to anyone watching, in fact there wasn't a soul present to see us pass.

Down the street and around the corner. Along an empty lot bordered with blooming Coreopsis and Mexican Hat and Purple Nightshade and Queen Anne's Lace. Past the soccer fields. Thru the bank parking lot. In front of the trailer park along the highway. Past a coop of chickens on the other side of a corrugated tin fence. Up the hill along the feeder road. And across the pavement to a patch of parched dry dirt next to a small grove of native trees and shrubs the state planted a couple years ago.

That's where we went with our water and Mexican Wiregrass.

This feels sneaky, Trudy said as we planted the grass one wispy clump at a time.

The traffic on the highway roared out of sight above us. Periodically, cars raced down the feeder road in the direction from which we had come. We dug and poured and planted. We pushed the soil down onto the hardy roots. We brushed dead grass and weeds around them to buffer the heat of the next few days.

We have great hopes for them.

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