I’m avoiding spring cleaning the house by heading outside. There’s plenty to do out there. The weekend storm was so strong that two screens on the screen porch blew in. Twigs and branches are all over the place. And those last daggone leaves that refused to fall in the fall have finally tumbled into the beds that I had already raked out in March.
The forsythia is beginning to leaf and the daffodils are mid-way through their season. Periwinkle is popping and wild violets are everywhere. Clumps of sedum that I divided last year are happily settled in their new beds. I discover hostas emerging where I had forgotten that I had planted them.
I also discover overturned rocks bordering the herb garden. This was no act of nature. No gushing rainwater to blame here, just a five year old boy in search of worms.
Message to boy: Put the rocks back after you get the worm. Or salamander.