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It’s amazing how fast Mother Nature works.

I learned that lesson many years ago, when I worked nights at the Windsor Star. In those days, I slept all day and rarely set foot out my door during the daylight hours — I just couldn’t handle that Windsor humidity!

Sunning in the backyard just wasn’t my thing. In fact, I rarely even looked out my back window and into my yard, which was 180 feet deep and nothing but grass and a couple of peach trees. I had moved to my little house on Jos Janisse Ave. from a highrise rental apartment just before winter, so it never occurred to me that perhaps, now that spring had arrived, I should take a peek out back now and then to see how things were growing.

In May, I packed a bag and went to Ottawa for my kid sister’s wedding.  I was only gone a few days, arriving back home under cover of darkness.  As I headed toward the kitchen near the back of the house, I could see weird shadows flickering across the window of my enclosed back porch. I turned the kitchen light off to get a better look.

I couldn’t believe my eyes.  Those shadows?  That was grass waving in the breeze. I thought I had been transplanted to the Saskatchewan prairie. The grass was at least three feet tall! Yes, even taller than the grass growing in the municipal parks and on the public boulevards of strike-struck Windsor.

I laughed out loud. Then I blushed in embarrassment and wondered if the neighbours had noticed. Then I cursed homeownership and all its obligations, like cutting the lawn and pulling weeds and cleaning the gutters and … Since I was the only one who lived there, it looked like I would be getting up early and trying to mow down that dastardly grass.

Easier said than done.  My old clunker of a lawn mower that I had bought used from a work friend — and had yet to try out — wouldn’t budge. In fact, I think I heard the thing laugh as it sputtered to a stall. Drastic measures would be required. I knocked on my neighbour’s door, explained my dilemma and came home with a scythe. Not quite sure why my neighbour, living in a very residential area, had a scythe on hand, but I was glad he did.

I spent hours hacking back the grass to a more reasonable length. Then I spent hours more mowing it.

That grass-cutting nightmare came to mind when I drove by a house with a For Sale sign on the lawn. The grass looked like mine did back in May 1989, before I learned that Mother Nature moves at lightning speed.  It was obvious that this house was empty – there weren’t even any curtains on the windows. The owner had moved out, but didn’t bother to arrange for someone to cut the grass, pull the weeds and water the lawn.

Curb appeal?  Let’s say this house didn’t have much to speak of. It looked worn and abandoned, a signal to bargain-hunters to come swooping in for the kill.

When selling a home, keeping the outside in tip-top shape is as important as keeping the inside neat and spotless. No one said selling a home was easy! But sellers can take some of the stress away by hiring a lawn-cutting crew, especially if they’ve already moved out of the home before it’s been sold. With the droughts we experience in Windsor-Essex County, the grass won’t grow for half the summer anyway, so it’s a small price to pay to keep your property looking good for buyers.

About those drought days. Wondering how to dress up a yellow lawn? Paint it!

According to an Associated Press report, painting dead lawns with green dye is proving popular in the U.S., where properties in foreclosure can remain on the market for months. While most of the lawns are being painted by image-conscious municipalities and homeowners’ associations, the report said some enterprising real estate agents trying to lure buyers are dipping into their own pockets for the dye job.

Smart? You bet. Because in real estate, first impressions can make or break a deal.

What signal is your home sending?