Like a Good Neighbor

Inspirational song: Don't Fence Me In (Roy Rogers)

Everyone knows the truism "Good fences make good neighbors." I propose a necessary corollary, "Good neighbors make good fences." When we first bought this house, it had a poorly-placed, three foot tall picket fence around most of the Park. From her kitchen window, my elderly neighbor had a great view of the ferns and hydrangeas that the previous owner planted. She is in her 80s, and she can't get around very well anymore. So when she told us of her disappointment that the new privacy fence, which was absolutely necessary to keep the red-headed dog from roaming the neighborhood, would block her view of the flowers she loved so much, we immediately made a plan to beautify the outside of the new fence. Not only did our neighbor rave about the shade garden we gained when we bought the house, one of the first things she ever showed us was a dried arrangement of white hydrangeas from right next to the old fence. She was so thrilled to have them. Before the fence was even complete all the way around, we had hung wire and coconut husk planters, filled them with colorful annuals, and put a trio of new hydrangeas at the base of the fence. Last year, the man added transplanted spirea that are doing much better in the new location, plus a row of gladiolus (which should have had their bulbs sunk much farther into the ground, so they don't tip over.) In early spring last year, I completely weeded the fence line, and mulched with grass clippings in an effort to keep new weeds from coming back. What kind of fool was I? The weeds on that side are going to win every time. But fool that I am, I was back out there this afternoon, ripping out weeds and spreading cedar mulch. This year's fence annuals are flowering vinca, which will hopefully be low-maintenance and hardy. 

A few days ago I posted a picture of the weed-choked fence, without comment. The difference between that picture and today is startling. It looks so much better. And I haven't collected enough data to be entirely certain, but it feels like everything is blooming and maturing faster than last year. Last winter was incredibly mild, and I had annuals that survived and came back on all sides, and in most containers. This year winter was far harsher, but for all the late freezes and delays, the perennials seem to be coming back quickly, with a vengeance in a huge explosion of color. I have flowers everywhere already.

As I sit here, pondering colors in gay profusion, Neil deGrasse Tyson is lecturing me about the composition of light and color. What marvelous synchronicity. I needed a color shift today. I started my day with the bonfire women, getting pedicures. I have thrown off my somber Lenten purple, in favor of a vivid rose pink. I'm ready to cloak myself in the trappings of spring. What a glorious time of year this is.