Requiem for a Circle

There was something quaint about the circles that dotted the roads when I first moved to South Jersey. They slowed the traffic as cars merged around them and hinted of a time when farms and orchards were abundant in the area. Then suburbia spread and the circles became congested. Instead of a smooth flow of vehicles there were snarls and occasional accidents. But there was still a bit of the country feel while the circles remained; they were grassy patches that connected roads divided by medians which each spring blossomed with color from the flowers the township planted. Then the state decided that the circles had to go. One by one they have been disappearing, replaced by wide stretches of tar and lots of traffic lights. The latest circle to go is the Marlton Circle, to be replaced by an overpass. Residents from the local townships understood that the tremendous increase in traffic demanded a more efficient plan but preferred that the redevelopment be more low-key. They suggested a simple intersection with turning lanes and smart lights to monitor the traffic. The state didn’t listen. So now, when Mother Nature brings out her beautiful blooms, this is what we have to look at. I hope that when the project is finished there will be some sense of what once existed here, that someone thought to engineer in some green. It isn’t only hardscaping that eases the movement of a community. Isn’t the flow of a neighborhood just as important as that of machines?

Dandelions Call

I know, I know, it is counterproductive to blow on the dandelion seeds. We spend a lot time digging up the plants to keep them from taking over the lawn so this is really not the smart thing to do. But they call to us. There is something compelling about those white puffballs. Maybe it brings us back to childhood when we had no thought of pristine lawns and manicured gardens. Perhaps we delight in the delicate explosion, watching the tiny helicopters take off to parts unknown, wishing that in an often difficult world we could do it, too. Possibly we think deeper, sensing the intelligence behind the dispersal of the seeds, how the plant finds ways through wind and passing creatures and, yes, us, to cultivate new territory and ensure survival. It could be for all those reasons or others. Then again perhaps we do it just because it’s fun.

Nest Eggs

Mother Nature offers us delightful surprises if we are open to seeing them. My friend Claire found one literally on her doorstep. There, inside a planter at her front entrance is a nest. And in the nest are three eggs! The plant is artificial but it doesn’t seem to matter to the bird who made her nest in it. They may be house finch eggs but Claire can’t be sure. She says that the mother bird scoots away too fast to get a good look at her whenever anyone opens the door or approaches from another direction. She is eager to see the eggs hatch and can already imagine the hungry peeping of the baby birds. What a treat! Spring is full of surprises like this: a burst of daffodils in a barren city lot, pink petals snowing down from a budding cherry tree, a rabbit resting in a mid-lawn depression. They, and so many other delights, are there each spring for the finding like nest eggs for our spirit.

Rabbit Time

It’s spring and that means rabbits. I know that rabbits can be troublesome, especially in regard to the bulbs I get snuckered into planting each year. I say snuckered because bulbs have such beautiful flowers that I can’t resist them even though I know that I will rarely see the blossoms. I have planted hundreds of tulips and harvested nearly none. As the flowers start to bud the rabbits snip them off the stems. So my strategy is to buy fully blossomed plants at the nursery, enjoy them inside for a while, then plant them in the garden. If the rabbits come out for lunch at least I have the pleasure, for a brief time, of seeing their full radiance. And somewhere in my heart of hearts I nurture the hope that maybe this time some of the bulbs will survive to show up again the following spring.

Faux Dogs

I love spring but spring doesn’t always love me. It is the time when the flowers and my allergies awaken. Most of my sneezing and itching tends to come at the end of the season with the explosion of ragweed but I become more sensitive to other irritants like dust and animals as soon as the pollen develops. It isn’t too bad unless I actually pet an animal, which is almost impossible for me not to do. Even hamsters and guinea pigs will get the itches going but I can tolerate them. Dogs and cats, oh boy. If I pet and then touch my eyes I am in trouble. I might be able to pet if I wash right after, depending upon how much the animal sheds. If I ignore the warning signs and get too close for too long, labored breathing kicks in – not fun. So, depending on how susceptible I’m feeling, I may have to settle for faux dogs, those metal creatures that are supposed to scare away geese and ducks but don’t seem to be very effective. I can appreciate their cuteness without the consequences of the allergy. It isn’t a good substitute but we all make compromises in life. At any rate, I don’t know of any faux cats around so when my son and his family, including his hairy, shedding cat, visit I won’t have to phone anyone to announce their arrival – my sneezing will do it for me.

Le Deluge

March is supposed to come in like a lion and go out like a lamb. I think March is confused. Here is mid-month and we did have some fierce winds but we also had rain, rain, rain. Isn’t that April’s job? How much rain have we had in the past week? The ground tells the tale. It is saturated, more puddles than dry earth. Of course, the marl that underlies the topsoil here does not allow the water to drain. Dig down about six inches and wham, the shovel hits rock-hard clay. Even so, the rain has been excessive, with each storm racking up inches in the rain gauge and causing flooding across the state. And the weather people are predicting more. Putting things in perspective, this is no big deal, what with the incredibly intense earthquakes in Haiti and Chile. Yet it is atypical, and coming on the heels of record snows this winter, I wonder what April has in store after this deluge...

What to Do?

The snow, at last, is mostly gone though there are still clumps of it on lawn edges and plowed parking lots. As it pulled back from the side of my house, I noticed a trail going between my house and our neighbor’s. What is this? I wondered. It is the first time in thirty years that I have seen this kind of trail. What animal could have made it? Moles are too big to make that inch-or-two wide furrow. Squirrels depress the grass but they don’t dig a line into the ground. Chipmunks sprint across the grass from one hole to another. So when in doubt, check it out – on the web. What I found was this: I think we have voles. These are small, mice-like animals that make trails from one spot to another. It’s a mystery why they suddenly appeared. The vegetation hasn’t changed. What would attract them? The question now is, what to do? If they don’t proliferate I may not have to do anything but if they do…I will investigate non-harmful, to them and to us, ways of removing them. If anyone has experience with voles, please let me know.