An older neighborhood like ours can begin to look pretty dowdy and rundown in late winter when there's no more snow to lend its magic. The century-old trees look like craggy skeletons and the ground, barren and muddy, calls attention to every Sonic cup or PennySaver that the Oklahoma wind blows in...
Having moved last summer from a brand new neighborhood with well-kept front yards and trim, brick-lined walks, I was beginning to feel depressed, but when I opened the blinds this morning I was greeted by unmistakable signs of spring.
The huge tree that hangs over the street in front of our house is green! Over night, it seems to have come alive, its earlier brown leaves turning a bright young green, increasingly hiding its near-black, gnarly limbs. The little powder blue Nantucket cottage with the white trim and cobbled drive rests once again in the tree's shade. The large, meadow-like yards on this corner are dotted with bright yellow dandelions and tiny purple daisies, and fat robins in their red waistcoats shout from their perches.
Yesterday, when I went out to get the mail, I noticed new life sprouting in the flower pots on our porch's steps, and I'm planning to go out this weekend to get a few more flowers for other pots, as well as Morning Glory seeds to plant in the beds that surround the porch. I want it to be a bower this summer. In the bed that juts into the yard I'm planting old-fashioned Sunflowers and full-sun herbs like Rosemary and Sage.
This will be a good weekend to get the yards in shape, and then to sit on the front porch with tall glasses of sweet tea.