Sanctuary City

When my grandfather retired in 1960, the very first thing he did was enclose the back porch with a roof, short wall and storm/screen windows all around.  It stayed pretty much the same for the next 28 years as he enjoyed it, watching the birds play and the trees grow.  In that time, seedling Chinese elm trees brought by my grandmother’s sister from Illinois grew into a row of giants, and the Montmorency cherry trees likewise until you could only pick the bottom third.  Pansies, iris and a big hydrangea bush ringed the porch’s perimeter.  Since then, I haven’t been able to imagine a home without a quiet, green outdoor space.

When we moved here, the deck out back was bare as a baby’s butt and too small.  So over time it has been expanded and planted all around.  It’s taken 28 years (there’s that time span again) to become the cool green retreat we now enjoy from Spring to early Winter.  Or, from lilac bloom to the final chorus of the chrysanthemums (and they’re about 25 years old!).  Family and good old friends have been here and feel relaxed, too.

Three volunteer black raspberry bushes have popped up and they feed the birds well (having dropped the seeds that became the plants). We put out birdseed in a small heap every morning on the corner table for the chipmunks, a chubby squirrel and, of course, the birds.  A special visitor, a ruby-throated hummingbird, visits the Bee Balm plant several times a day.  That‘s a delight that never gets old.  “I know a place, where green mansions are…”