Our Wildflower Garden

Waking up Sunday morning was a little rough, but I was excited to get to the farm.  Driving out of the hectic city and towards the country brought back memories of my childhood before my life in suburbia.


I moved to Pennsylvania in the first grade, but the five years prior to the move I lived in Virginia.  We had one neighbor, Mrs. Jones, and she lived across the two-lane highway.  Land and woods occupied the rest of the area.  Back then my dad was a big-time hunter and fisherman.  We would explore the woods and make our own trails.  I had much more freedom than probably any of the five-year-olds running around today.  We had a German Shepherd named Hannah, who was super smart.  She would chase me around the yard, and I even have a picture (because I really don’t remember) of Hannah pulling my pants down with her teeth as I attempt to escape.  Most of my memories from Virginia stem from pictures.  I was an only child then, so I guess one could say I was a bit spoiled.  My yard was a playground in itself with swings, a jungle gym, and my own personal pool, which in fact could only hold my big toe now.  I was a country boy with a slight twang in my voice, my mother said, until we made the move to PA.


Moving from the warmth of the car to the fresh air of the farm was refreshing.  The air was cool and the grass was damp – I was awake, ready to get my hands dirty.  The open spaces surrounded by woods made me want to run around like I was five again.  Instead, I got to work.  I might not be the most expressive person, but I really enjoyed the whole class getting together to do this small thing.  This class is the first time that I have truly thought about nature and the environment more than hearing about something in the news or seeing a “Green” bumper sticker on a car.  I felt like I was actually doing something decent to benefit nature, even if it was just the beginnings of a tiny wildflower garden.  (I figure I have to start somewhere.)  And now when the flowers are in bloom, we can look back and say that is our wildflower garden.


After the last wheelbarrow of dirt and our healthy lunches (that was definitely the first time I’ve ever eaten a veggie sandwich – not bad), I thought the walk through the woods was incredible.  My favorite part was the little pond that used to be used for ice-skating.

Almost five, maybe six, years ago, my friend and I found a similar pond in the woods of Cecil, fifteen minutes from my house in Canonsburg.  In the winter we would trek through the woods with our ice skates and hockey sticks.  We made his little brother drag the aluminum hockey net through the jagger bushes (I know jagger is a Pittsburgh thing, but I can’t figure out the true name) and trees.  We withstood the burning pain that shot through our fingers as we laced up our skates and ignored the whining of my friends little brother.  Our only obstacle, other than the unshaven ice, was a single car tire that stuck out of the ice.  We played until it was too dark to see the puck.


I really don’t know much about rebuilding that kind of thing, but I would love to see the pond in its prime.  Maybe a project for the near future, if anyone’s interested.