We moved into our tiny cottage in town on February 24th, probably the bleakest time of year in the Ozarks. The bright palette of Autumn was long gone and only a few tattered brown remnants of Summer’s glory clung defiantly to their spindly branches. Our lawn was a barren rocky wasteland and an untidy collection of shrubs, vines and adolescent trees spanned the back property line. I was determined to tear out that eyesore at the first possible chance. I envisioned a neat privacy fence with dwarf fruit trees artfully espaliered against it..
But time has a way of slipping by and this spring seemed to move in fast forward. That “useless” collection of wildness has burst forth with life. The sweet pink blooms of the redbud were followed by delicate edible pods. Honeysuckle and wild grape twine among the shrubbery. Thorny blackberry stems push infant fruit toward the sun. There is even a half buried mulberry tree laden with tiny pale green fruit.
short lived, each day shedding their tender wreath of petals to leave only the bristly globe that will, in time, become a glossy blackberry.
lacy leaves of maturity. It is nearly time to remove them from their small sheltered nursery and let them dig their roots deep into the wide open earth. Yet I have no idea where to put them. I need a plan.
e never before had this luxury of being able to walk to where I need to be. There’s amazing freedom in knowing I don’t have to fret about a three cent gasoline price hike.
Everything is growing by leaps and bounds now. The wooly sage colored leaves and tiny purple flowers of henbit push brazenly toward the sun while vivid purple violets bow modestly amid their leafy rosettes. I cringe at mowing such lovely plants, but something must be done to keep them in check lest they take over the entire lawn and push out their more timid cousins.