Methinks I have discovered a new way to garden (for me): meadow mowing

I just got myself a seriously active brushcutter so I went outback and...
 What I may seem to have here is a tabula rasa --  a blank slate-- but you would be mistaken.
What I have here are 'x' number of beds mulched with Vetiver and edged by Vetiver hedges. Maybe you can't see them because they too were cut short.
Methinks I have discovered a new way to garden (for me): meadow mowing
There was a lot of ground cover here -- lots of Scurvy Weed-- so I'm in effect marrying that for better or worse, while I wait for the Vetiver mulch to smother it.
Of course you don't see it through my eyes.
So I'll tell you what I envisage.
As it is, all my beds are hedged with Vetiver -- and some beds are similarly divided into smaller ones surrounding by Vetiver hedging.
So in the 'Vegetables' beds I'm  going to plant vegetables inside the Vetiver hedges.
In the 'Vetiver & Hedges' bed I'll be planting Vetiver among the vegetable plants. Maybe willy nilly.
My aim is to monitor any symbiosis between the edibles and  the V grass and to see how much less water the beds will need.
Maintenance after harvest will be -- you guessed it! -- mowing down the lot.
You can't see it but these beds -- all of them -- are already at least 15 cm higher than the surrounding pathways because of all the mulch I've been throwing at them these last so many years.
While I'm a Vetiver nursery man --it is official -- according to my horticultural peers, I still want to create a sustainable vegetable garden  that employs Vetiver as its major companion plant. And I think, in my mind's eye, I have the ways and means to proceed even more keenly.
So, in that sense, I do indeed have a tabula rasa.  A working hypothesis. Of course, given my penchant for climbers and 'aerials' the garden looks positively empty.  But once I re-string my lines and plant out, the jungle will return complete with a swinging Tarzan.
Indeed, this image below  is a reality check.
To the right is tabula rasa.
On the left, however, is keen jungling behind which is the orchard-in-a-chook-pen.
Untouched by savage hands.
There is a place for everything and everything in its place.
I need to tell you that there was very little forethought in play here. Overcome by  impulse and improvisation these fancies occurred to me while snipping about.
I refused to censor myself ... and the result is as you see.
Tomorrow I let the chooks out to roam the meadow.
Kinda looks like a stage waiting for the show to start.