End of Summer - The Secret Garden

Tuesday, I heard the rumbling of the iconic yellow bus grind to a halt at the end of my driveway. Some things never change. I thought noting that the bus stop was in the same place as in the 60’s and 70’s when I rode it, first to Mather Junior High (now the Town Hall) and later to Darien High. And here another school year was beginning.

It was quiet after the bus continued on its way out and I decided to take a walk with Lucy, my dog. We saw some men building a retaining wall at a home down the street, one of the workers tossing a Frisbee to a black lab that was more than happy to share his domain in exchange for human companionship!

Under the I-95 underpass there was an empty lot that had been a magnet for discarded cans, cigarette packs, coffee cups, plastic bags and other debris. Hidden under tall grass and wild weeds, you don’t usually see the garbage until frost hits and the grass dies back and then you see all the trash tossed by litterbugs as if the fact that it was an empty lot made it one giant garbage can or a mini dump.

However this particular parcel of land, surrounded by a deer-deterring fence, had been uniquely landscaped into a wonderful “secret” garden.Boulders surrounded by bright yellow marigolds and sunflowers flank the gates, American flags fly at the top of the gate posts and several iron rings complete the eclectic entrance to this hidden idyll.Inside are neat rows of vegetables and herbs, and down a large central path, a table and chairs with an umbrella and just beyond that a hammock! How perfect, lying on a hammock in the green shade on a blue and gold September afternoon.
This past Sunday I had the rare pleasure of sitting with Wayne and Eric, the creators of this oasis, talking and comparing notes on what did well and what didn’t – thoughts only lovers of the land can ramble on about.

Having grown up with gardens, I can’t help but imagine how wonderful it would be if all undeveloped parcels of land could be cultivated like this. What an unexpected —but perfect — idea.
Now Labor Day has come and gone, children are in school, streets are quieter, the last of the gardens are a visual feast for us because soon — when the plants die back, the days shorten and get colder, it will mean autumn has arrived.

But then, that also asks the question — are you ready for some football?

The End of Unemployment Compensation

As I end my time on unemployment and look forward to a new start in a new job, I feel no regret for the past 18 months that I spent growing in new directions, learning new skills, meeting many new and interesting people, and the words of Cross Creek come to mind as I embark on my new journey: "It is more important to live the life one wishes to live, and to go down with it if necessary, quite contentedly, than to live more profitably but less happy." We only go round once in this world, making the most of it, the most of our talents, opening our eyes to the beauty around us in spite of all the ugliness that also inhabits this world - enjoy the journey and never stop learning, never stop seeing with new eyes!

A perfect gardening day and this plump friendly robin kept hanging around the yard with my dog Lucy and me. I couldn’t help hoping he was one of the robins born last spring that I watched over through storms and rain, hoping they would survive the rustic nest in my rose arbor! I remember that last day when the baby robin left. He was hesitant, unsure if he would survive without the mother who had been providing for him all through the spring. So, he sat on the split rail fence at the edge of the patio where it joined the woods. Sat there most of the afternoon and then as evening began to fall, his courage grew, and he listened to the birdsong echoing among the trees, all the feathered ones going in for the night, and off he flew. I watched him till he disappeared, deep into the woods, uncertain if I would ever see him again. And now, this plumb fellow is back again, sometimes sitting on the sidewalk dipping into puddles, sometimes on the fence where I watched him pondering his future, sometimes in the grass pulling up a fat worm. I wondered if he had a mate and where she was, if perhaps she had built a nest somewhere nearby and was even now sitting on the pretty blue eggs while this one dug for worms to feed her, and pluck twigs and stray wisps of dog hair to warm their nest. I marvel at their industry, always about something, hunting for food, foraging for nest material, happily splashing in the bird bath, occasionally checking the bird feeder, which I only fill during nasty winter storms when they need the extra nourishment. And always, at dusk, a few final songs, maybe only one long note, and then silence as they disappear into the woods until the sun returns. - July 2012

4th of July

It’s the 4^th of July and maybe we should remember that this is not a partisan holiday. It is a day of celebration for all the benefits we reap as Americans, one people.  Theodore Roosevelt said “To waste, to destroy, our natural resources will result in undermining in the days of our children the very prosperity which we ought by right to hand down to them amplified.” Are we bequeathing a better America to our children? We utilize our Constitutional right to elect officials that we hope are preserving what we have and bettering the world that we inherited.  John Quincy Adams said “Think of your forefathers and of your posterity.” Great men, great words. Do we think of them as Democrats or Republicans or do we think of them as Americans doing for our country what needed to be done. Are we all doing what needs to be done to continue that legacy? While we are enjoying our barbecues and parties, our celebratory fireworks (thank you for reinstating this wonderful tradition) let’s remember that we are here in this great country because of our ancestors – and remember the words of Stephen Vincent Benet “There were human beings aboard the Mayflower, not just ancestors.” Remember that we are all human beings who will someday be ancestors, we are all blessed with the freedom to pursue whatever endeavors we want and utilize the talents we were given to attain those goals without repression, aggression, or restriction. God bless America!

Winter Gardens

The winter gardens are beautiful in their austerity, the raised beds, surrounded by gravel paths are barren but tidy, against the flagstone patio where the wrought iron table and chairs sit patiently waiting for the return of warm weather visitors! The hydrangeas are brittle stalks, lovely in their indifference to the cold, even with the lack of blossoms, only a few dried brown heads remaining, evidence of the profusion of blue last summer. Dormant lavender and sage still stand near the dried lemongrass and hollyhocks waiting for the warmth to return, the land to thaw.  The ground has crystals in it, where frost has attacked and harbored. It isn’t soft, warm and crumbly like spring soil full of moisture and the promise of life. It’s hard, cold, sealed within itself, keeping secrets unseen by our eyes but which we know, by faith, they will  give back to us come spring. Above, the night sky is ringed with a cold gossamer haze cocooning the white sliver of the new moon, beaming gently down on all the gray, white cold of earth in its frozen grasp. An occasional raccoon or opossum waddles through looking for remnants in the vegetable garden, empty of all but a few Brussels sprouts and one head of green cabbage. The air is still, birdsong disappearing into the dark, only the far away echo of cars on Route 136 or Interstate 95 interrupt the soothing peace of night, falling earlier and staying longer in the morning. There is something wondrous about looking at the gardens empty of life, sitting expectantly, waiting patiently, nurturing underground the roots and bulbs of what will be my entertainment after the long winter solstice.