On the Cutting Edge

Author:

Category:

Location:

Note that if you purchase something via one of our links, including Amazon, we may earn a small commission.

Using a scythe to maintain our meadow was a revelation!

Mowing

by Robert Frost (from his book, A Boy's Will, 1913)

There was never a sound beside the wood but one,
And that was my long scythe whispering to the ground.
What was it it whispered? I knew not well myself;
Perhaps it was something about the heat of the sun,
Something, perhaps, about the lack of sound—
And that was why it whispered and did not speak.
It was no dream of the gift of idle hours,
Or easy gold at the hand of fay or elf:
Anything more than the truth would have seemed too weak
To the earnest love that laid the swale in rows,
Not without feeble-pointed spikes of flowers
(Pale orchises), and scared a bright green snake.
The fact is the sweetest dream that labor knows.
My long scythe whispered and left the hay to make.


It was March 2024 when Rita Higgins, who was leading a Nantucket Land and Water Council-sponsored native meadow workshop at Bartlett's Farm, mentioned a scythe workshop on the British Isles. At the time, our former dairy pasture had been allowed to grow for two years as the first step of a meadow restoration (guided by Rita) and was supporting a beautiful mosaic of native fescues, sedges, grasses, and forbs — but also woody groundsel, bayberry, and juniper, and invasive thistle, miscanthus, and privet that would soon need to be cut to prevent it from shading out the native meadow plants we were hoping to foster. 

For meadow restorations, it's not enough to just let the grasses grow. Invasive and woody species need to be actively managed to prevent succession to another ecosystem, while grasses need to be occasionally trimmed to keep their growth in check and allow space for wildflowers to grow. Doing both typically requires annual mowing, burning, manual removal, and/or regular grazing. 

I had been feeling challenged by the contradictions between fostering a native plant meadow that sequesters carbon, filters water, provides habitat, and supports biodiversity, and the loud, energy-intensive, carbon-spewing, soil-compacting, habitat-disrupting power tools used to maintain it. However, it had never occurred to me to use a scythe until Rita mentioned it, nor had I ever seen one used. The change in our goals for this meadow also required a change in management strategy, and for that, a scythe fit the bill: a quiet, non-polluting, cheap, multi-use tool that was easy to assemble, maintain, and repair.

People have used scythes for mowing since the Roman Empire, and sickles for gathering seed heads and cutting grass or reeds (for matting, bedding, and roofing materials) since well before the Agricultural Revolution — but to me, they just evoked the Grim Reaper and Soviet Communism. Farmers replaced these tools so long ago with lawn mowers and combine harvesters that the notion of reincorporating their use took a leap of imagination (and a fair amount of courage when considering handling a sharp, three-foot blade). But while many of us have been conditioned to believe that we need machines to handle labor-intensive chores, it doesn't take a Luddite to advocate the use of a rake and broom when faced with the racket of a leaf blower and the clouds of feces, dust, and mold that they stir up.

Inspired by Rita, I purchased a 170cm Schröckenfux adjustable wooden snath (the scythe’s long, wooden handle) with an attachable 70cm “Gartensense” blade. I watched more than a few instructional videos and practiced swinging the blade over our dirt driveway, getting into a rhythmic sway, shifting my weight from foot to foot while twisting my upper body and keeping the blade against the ground. The slow and deliberate movements are very similar to tai chi and other meditations in motion: a gentle series of posture-correcting circular maneuvers — back straight, shoulders down — engaging the core muscles while one shifts balance from side to side to the rhythm of one's breath. It's great exercise for people of most ages and abilities and can be as relaxing as a two-step or as demanding as ballet. I've heard about children as young as four learning this procedure and older adults putting aside their canes to scythe, and there are competitions in which scythe mowers race against not only each other, but also against people using strimmers (weed whackers) and lawnmowers. 

I first took to the fields with my new scythe on a glorious April morning. Reminding myself of the adage that “the scythe must dance,” I fell into a slow but rhythmic shuffle so that my shifting weight, rather than my arms, pushed the scythe through the grasses. I felt peaceful, mesmerized as the scythe blade whispered “swoosh” through the tall grass stems, followed by gentle rustling as swaths of grasses fell together into neat piles at the end of each stroke. Inching my feet forward during the return swing, I repeated the process, over and over again. Although the movements themselves were repetitive, the process was gratifying, every inch of progress providing a moment of complete engagement with the landscape. 

The old adage “Give me six hours to chop down a tree and I will spend four sharpening the axe” proved prescient. When it got tough to swing the blade, it was time to resharpen. I stopped every few minutes to hone the blade with a whetstone, stroking diagonally downwards across the top of the blade and across its bottom to remove any metal burrs. During one of the many resharpening stops that first day, I took a moment to look around and admire my handiwork and noticed a gaggle of geese grazing 15 to 20 feet behind me. Normally, they'd honk emphatic protestations if I were walking so close to them, but now, as I mowed with the scythe, it felt as though we were grazing in quiet communion together, and they understood that I posed no threat or bother to them. In addition to the geese, bees, bugs, and other birds normally scared away by the noise or speed of conventional mowing seemed completely at ease while I mowed with the scythe. The entire scything process felt like a serene, blissful engagement with nature, a moment to listen, observe closely, and admire.

It doesn't take someone from ‘Sconset to tell you how disturbing the cacophony of noise from power landscaping equipment can be. [A stricter noise bylaw proposal limiting construction and landscaping activities during certain hours has been submitted by the Sconset Civic Association and is expected to be considered at the spring 2026 Nantucket Town Meeting.] Nationwide, noise may be the most widespread and most underacknowledged pollutant. Birds and insects, like humans, are stressed by noisy environments, and chronic stress can lead to smaller body sizes, delayed development, and increased mortality. Artificial sounds can also induce birds, bats, and insects to change feeding, nesting, mating, hunting, and predator avoidance habits — all of which can lead to declines in population, health, and biodiversity. While the sound intensity produced by a gas-powered push or riding mower is comparable to that of a motorcycle, the scythe makes about as much noise as grasses rustling in the breeze.

The time and effort required to mow with a scythe are similar to what it would take using a strimmer, but the whole process is quieter, lighter, and more efficient — and the results are just as good. Experienced scythers using long blades can actually mow much faster than strimmers and achieve a more consistent height of cut. For short grasses where the soil has been smoothed, it's relatively easy to cut down to one to two inches tall, as in a typical mowed lawn. For larger meadow grasses like cord and switch grass, which have dense crowns and hollow stems, it's easy to float the blade to a higher cut level that provides crucial insect habitat and visual interest. 

Additionally, you can use a scythe to knick out individual plants, even shrubs, while leaving neighboring plants untouched, whereas the strimmer’s string line cuts a wider radius and won't cut through woody materials. In fact, the scythe is an excellent tool for woody plant removal and pruning that would damage the blade of most lawnmowers. Using a heavier, shorter, and thicker “bush blade,” I can easily cut through saplings with a diameter of  up to 3/4″ at ground level without any of the back bending that using loppers entails (though I still use loppers and/or a saw for anything wider than 3/4″). Also, I can prune bushes and branches taller than myself. For prickly invasives like bull thistle, the scythe makes it easy to cut and move the plant without touching it, which can prove painful with even the best gloves. 

For speed alone, the scythe doesn't compete against a large mower or a tractor with a brush hog. Larger cleared areas, such as those owned and maintained by the Nantucket Conservation Foundation, would require teams of scythe mowers to replace a piece of heavy machinery. While a tractor with a brush hog can mow in an hour as much as an experienced scythe mower can do in a day, there’s a lot that these machines don't allow for: selective single plant removal, for example, or  on-the-go height variation. Nor can they mow in small or steep areas. The scythe is a user-guided precision instrument that remains the most versatile mowing and pruning tool out there.

For most household properties and situations, the scythe remains the ideal land management tool. It’s an appropriate technology that's versatile, environmentally sustainable, energy-efficient, and affordable, and it causes little disruption to our neighbors and environment. Holistic individual climate and environmental action requires us to reconsider how we cut our lawns — as much as whether we should have lawns in the first place — along with how we travel, heat, build, buy, and eat. Consider the scythe a fitting complement to recycling, passive solar, bicycles, composting, and low- or no-meat diets — strategies that may require initial effort but are imperative for living sustainably.

What You Can Do: Want to Scythe?

Read about scything on Martha's Vineyard here.

Published:

Last Modified:

Latest Nantucket Stories

Will Kinsella
Will Kinsella
Will Kinsella is a passionate traveler, public servant, and Osceola Foundation member with lifelong ties to Nantucket. Following field-based environmental research programs in the Bahamas, Costa Rica and Australia, and graduation from Hamilton College, Will began work for Senator John Chafee in 1998 and continued with his son, Lincoln Chafee, throughout his Senate and Gubernatorial terms and campaigns. Will has worked in communications, policy, constituent services and operations, for Democrat, Independent, Libertarian and Republican politicians, and on municipal, state and federal campaigns. Following Governor Chafee's term, Will pursued his passion for slow surface travel explorations, which included the length of the Silk Route from Beijing to Venice, overlanding Ushuaia to Cartagena and hiking the Camino de Santiago from St. Jean, the Torres del Paine W Trek and to Everest Base Camp. His family has a history of cultural heritage stewardship on Nantucket, where he lives now and serves as the Chair of ACKlimate.
Read More

Related Articles

LEAVE A REPLY

Please enter your comment!
Please enter your name here