Spring brings breezes to the garden. They dry the morning dew, make the afternoon sunshine a pleasure to sit in, and fill the evening air with scents from blossoms unseen. This week they bring seeds
From the fifty year old oaks next door, brown catkins descend, like an invading army of paratroopers. They infiltrate the lettuce. The deck becomes an assembly area where tangled masses form.
From the maples, helicopters by the hundreds twirl across the yard. Every surface covered. They seek the thinnest crevice and lodge there.
In the gutters, the two invaders combine into a tangled dam a beaver would be proud of. Gutter shields are no match. Special hose-end attachments useless. Once wet even the leaf blower will not dislodge them. After the “easy” methods fail ( don’t they always ? ) manual removal is the only option. Up the ladder I go
In the garden, it is reoccurring events both good and bad that mark the passage of the gardening year.