We're Going In: My Neglected Back Yard

The jungle is calling -- and I'm accepting the challenge

‘The Secret Garden,’ Buffalo style. Photos by the Author.

For years, I’ve been ignoring my back yard. I just don’t go there.

I have no more lawn. I have a forest floor. Let me talk for a couple of minutes as I gather up the nerve to post pictures. The weeds are pushy. Creeping Charlie has declared itself the Supreme Leader. The mint, which I love, and which most people decry as aggressive, has been conquered — not by something exotic or glamorous, but by lemon balm. Which sounds pleasant, but trust me, it’s a brute.

Once there was an apple tree. It used to deliver apples. But apple trees do not live forever, and it went to its reward. It sat there for a couple of years — bare, bereft, leaning against the garage.

That tree finally came down the other day! Big victory!

Also I keep encountering inspiration.

A few weeks ago, my visit to the Buffalo and Erie County Botanical Gardens inspired me to start turning my standard-issue Buffalo sun room into a Victorian conservatory. That has been going OK.

The other day, I went to a pool party at the home of my friends Mari and Dave. Their yard is glorious. Thinking about that and the Botanical Gardens makes me think: I’m not inspired by any goal that actually seems reachable. That isn’t exciting enough for me. I have to walk into something magical and unreachable. That’s what gets me going.

There’s more space now that the apple tree is ausgeganen, to use a German word my dad loved. You say it “OWs-keh-gang-en.” It means “outta here.”

Der Apfelbaum ist ausgeganen!

With the apple tree gone, I see possibility. I see “The Secret Garden.”

My garden has much in common with the garden this other Mary discovered in Frances Hodgson Burnett’s book.

That garden had a door with a lock and key. My garden is guarded by Buffalo garbage totes.

That children’s book garden had stone walls. My neighbor’s garage is a weathered blue and purple structure with peeling paint that is equally picturesque.

I once painted a watercolor of this garage. People purchased that watercolor. You know who bought a print? My former editor at The Buffalo News, Margaret Sullivan. It was so nice of her to be my patron! And I love that we have similar taste in what is beautiful.

My garage is also covered in ivy.

The yard, as I said, is full of weeds and nuisances — Lesser Celandine, buck-thorn trees, Creeping Charlie). When I first went through it with my Seek app I think I cried. I thought I would find at least one thing interesting, you know?

Well, there is one plant I do find intriguing: the Riverbank Grape.

The Riverbank Grape vine rambles all over the back yard. My Seek app taught me its name (read about my addiction to this app here).

I have actually used the leaves to make Greek grape leaves, a treat I love. However AI, aka Daddy-O, has told me that we can train it to produce actual grapes. I should have done that years ago — however the second-best time to do it is now.

Let’s continue the tour. Behind my garage is a whole different area. Once, in one of my rare waves of ambition, I dug down a bit into the spot where you see the sun in this picture. And I found flagstones! Big heavy slabs that someone had put down at one point or another in history. My house was once part of the Tillinghast Estate, so who knows.

The pretty garage behind my yard is on Tillinghast Street.

That adds to my ambition, looking at that garage. It’s time my yard measured up to its august neighbors!

With which, my challenge starts here, with this column.

These can be my “before” pictures. I want to be able to post “after” pictures that look different from these.

The good news is, I don’t think we need to haul in tons of rocks or even pave a path. Just like the secret garden in the book, it’s not a huge space. I think all we need are cosmetic improvements. A table and chairs. Maybe some actual flowers.

I will consult with Daddy-O and get the Riverbank Grape producing grapes.

That dilapidated old table? I can try spray-painting it.

And — big part of my plan — those nuisance buck-thorn trees could be turned into an amenity with a few strings of twinkle lights. I do love my twinkle lights. The trees are a nice size for that.

Suggestions are welcome.

It’s not too late!

Further Reading