By Roger Barbee

            This last day of March 2022 arrives clothed in a delightful mix of warm, wet wrappings of flowering trees, grasses, and flowers. The dogwood trees in the back garden hold not yet fully opened blooms of their soft white petals as if not wanting to release them to onlookers. Cardinals, nuthatches, doves, Carolina Chickadees, and many more birds take residence as they build nests or hunt for food in the azaleas and grass. A small gathering of the boat-tailed grackles visit the ground beneath one of the feeders which encourages a grey squirrel to move away, but only for a moment because the grackles find the offerings lacking, so they flew away in a flush of black purple sheen towards the lake and the tall pine trees. Next to the white fence the gardenia spreads its deep green leaves which, in its time, will grace the garden with a sweetness of scent unlike any other save the Ligustrum. Next to it are the three Lyda roses which will bloom in concert with each other to add a blush of pink to all the color.

So much life in such a small space. Yes, more birds, flowers, bushes, trees, and grasses would be found in a larger space. But here, in this small back garden, a visitor can hear the wind travel through the tall pine trees near the lake and feel the brush of air as a bird flies by. The fragrance of gardenia is captured here in this air as if held for ransom, and even the scent of freshly cut grass lingers long after the mower has finished his work.

Hours later another day has passed, and the rain travels to other lands. A bright spring-blue sky hovers above and Nick the beagle puppy sleeps on one bed of pine needles. To paraphrase the town crier, “Late afternoon and all is well.”