Upon observing the way we waste our precious natural resources, imagine the conversation The Creator might have with St. Francis: "Frank, you know all about gardens and nature. What in the world is going on down there? Where are all of the dandelions, violets, thistle and stuff I planted eons ago? I had the perfect no-maintenance garden plan. My plants grew in any type of soil; they withstood drought, and multiplied with abandon. The nectar from the long-lasting blossoms attracted butterflies, honey bees, and flocks of songbirds. I expected to see a vast garden of color by now, but all I see are these green squares." "It's the tribes that settled there, Lord. The Suburbanites. They started calling your flowers 'weeds' and went to great extent to kill them and replace them with grass." "Grass? But, it's so boring." It's not colorful. It doesn't attract birds or bees, only grubs and sod worms. It's temperamental with temperatures. Are you sure they really want all that grass growing there?" "Apparently so, Lord. They go to great pains to grow it, and keep it green. In the Spring they fertilize the grass, and kill any other plants that crop up." "The spring rains and cool weather probably make the grass grow really fast. That must make the Suburbanites happy." "Apparently not, Lord. As soon as it grows a little - they cut it." "Cut it? Do they then bale it like hay?"
"No, not exactly, Lord. Most of them rake it up and put it in bags." "Oh. Is it a cash crop?
Do they sell the bags?" "No sir, just the opposite. They pay taxes for the bags to be hauled off." "Now, let me get this straight. They fertilize the grass so it will grow, and when it does grow they cut if off and pay to throw it away?" "Yes, sir." "Then, these suburbanites must be relieved in the summer when we cut back on the rain and turn up the heat. That surely slows the growth and saves them a lot of work." "Sit down, Lord. When the grass stops growing, they drag out the hoses and pay more money to water it, so they can continue to mow it and pay to have it hauled off." "What nonsense! At least they kept some of the trees. That was a sheer stroke of genius, if I do say so myself. The trees grow leaves in the spring to provide beauty and shade in the summer. In the Autumn they fall to the ground and form a natural blanket to keep moisture in the soil and protect the trees and bushes. Plus, as they rot, the leaves form a compost to enhance the soil." "You still sitting, Lord? The Suburbanites have grown a new circle. As soon as the leaves fall, they rake them, bag them, and pay to have them hauled off." "You're kidding! What do they do to protect the shrub and tree roots in the winter, or keep the soil moist and loose?" "After the leaves are hauled off they buy something they call mulch and spread it around under the trees." "And where do they get this mulch." "They cut down the trees and grind them up." "ENOUGH! I don't want to think about this anymore. St. Catherine, you're in charge of the arts. What movie have you scheduled for us tonight?" "Dumb and Dumber, Lord. It's a real stupid movie about..." "Never mind, I think I just heard the whole story."