Field of Dreams: A Rant.

There is a yard on Highway 23 on the way to my parents' place that always makes my skin crawl. Why? Because it is nearly three acres of JUST GRASS LAWN, clipped to within an inch of its life. There are no shrubs. There are no trees—not even a functional windbreak of pine trees lined up like soldiers on the property line. There are no flowers. There is no life. It is an ecological desert.

Sure, there IS a child's play set behind the ranch house in the "normal" backyard area, which you need binocul