I’ve been searching for serenity all my life.
Evenings are so nice. When I first moved in here there weren’t any trees and the sun beat down on the yard with full, brutal intensity. Years ago I used to work on my tan out there. I got so dark someone asked me if I was Latino. But that was years ago.
Looking out my back door to the right, three doors down, there’s a huge maple tree. It’s so big you can’t wrap your arms around it. It’s branches embrace the backyards of at least five city properties. It’s very old and probably was here when most of these houses were built back in the 19th century. It’s progeny are all over the area. They’re called “weed maples” because they’re so prolific.
Three saplings took root on my right hand fence line 10-15 years ago. About the same time two or three others began growing in my neighbor’s yard to the left. Once again they were on the fence line there. That’s probably because seeds that fall in the yards get mowed and don’t get a chance to grow.
So now, well over a decade later, my back yard is nicely shaded. The view from my porch shows the yard, 25 feet or so wide, with the “lawn” going a little more than twice that back toward the graveled parking lot. The yard ends about halfway to the street.
Beyond the parking lot is the alley that bisects this city block east to west. On the other side of the alley, facing this property, is a line of weathered, freshly painted garages that sport a variety of doors: segmented rollups, tracked sliders, and big swingers, hinged on one side.
There’s even a brick carriage house they’ve done some work on lately, it looks really good for its age. There are areas spaced apart in its brick construction, where bricks were left out in a diamond shaped pattern, allowing air to circulate through the second floor of the structure.
I don’t really know why the wall is perforated like that but at one time tobacco was a big cash crop around here. One of the small towns out in the country nearby became famous for its cigars. Perhaps the second floor was used for curing small amounts of the pernicious plant.
Or, maybe, since people kept horses in their carriage houses (instead of cars, okay?), the ventilation may have been to keep methane from building up on the second floor.
There might be some “grass” in the lawn, which I like to call my “botanical garden” because of the large number of different varieties of plants that inhabit it. Most are weeds, crabgrass, dandelions, thistles, and other common varieties. Some have pretty flowers. All are kept at bay by my landlord when he mows the yard.
There’s a spot under one of the trees on my fence line where nothing is growing, just a bare spot with decaying tree dirt lying in a circle pattern under the tree.
There are several families of squirrels that make things lively from time to time. Suddenly you’ll hear this ripping and tearing through the trees and you’ll notice a couple of the tree rats playing tag. They can make you laugh.
Along with the squirrels in my arboretum are the local cats that you see prowling from time to time. They usually keep a pretty low profile and all have that “I don’t care” attitude. Many belong to homes in the ‘hood and roam free but there are wild ones that are nearly feral, living by their wits—there are occasional road pizza kitties.
There’s one cat I call Meesha. Somehow years ago Meesha’s tail was cut off; I saw the injury shortly after it happened, apparently, the severed part was still connected by a small strip of fur.
I often wondered if it was my action that cut Meesha’s tail. Cats like to crawl up into the engine compartments of cars to keep warm. A radiator fan would do a pretty good job on a cat tail. I’ll never know, of course, and some weeks later Meesha showed up with the thing all healed up. I’ve seen her this year, she has a place across the street somewhere, behind the line of garages.
And then there’s the birds. I know very little about bird species but I can tell you I’ve seen dozens of different ones here in the back yard. Cardinals, robins, sparrows, grackles, doves, orioles, and even crows (who like the big tree) among the star studded avian cast.
Also flying, with incredible, unbelievable skill I might add, are bats that make their appearance at night. They munch on the myriad insects that gather around the dusk till dawn light mounted up on the third floor of the building.
I’ve looked in many places for serenity during the course of my life. I very much like sitting on my porch, plinking on my guitar, and watching the whole thing go down in harmony. It is serene.