The Vine and the Backyard - The Rev. Joanna Leiserson

A few years ago, when traveling anywhere was out of the question because of you-know-what, many homeowners thought of turning their own yards into destinations worthy of traveling to--and the staycation was born. My backyard was a blank slate full of weeds. I wanted a place outside that was worth traveling to, a yard that reminded me of places I'd been to and loved--Clear Lake, the working-class resort of my early childhood with its woods and hammock; Olympic National Forest; Glacier National Park; the Japanese Garden in San Francisco and Spokane; and finally, Children's Fairyland in Oakland and anything Alice in Wonderland. I'm too scrawny to dig a hole deeper than three inches, so I hired a landscaper to plant the trees I bought. In my usual getting-carried-away habit, I eventually ended up, in a medium sized backyard, with 2 redbud trees, 3 magnolias, 7 dogwoods, and 13 Japanese maples, all different. After they were planted, I told the trees, "You're on your own." I didn't want to have to actually work in my yard. I'm all for no-maintenance gardening here. The trees had to take care of themselves. It was a transactional relationship between me and my trees. I give them dirt; they give me beauty, shade, and supplemental oxygen. I wasn't going to fuss over them, water them, hug them--or prune them. I'm not a gardener. I'm a stay-at-home tourist.