a peek inside the fishbowl

It is, in fact, a small corner of our backyard.

I’m there every couple of days during non-snowy months, not exactly for quiet contemplation, but to take care of our compost: chopping, turning, digging etc.

But as soon as I cross under the lilac tree I am immediately embraced by the shade. Despite our proximity to two neighbors, it’s very quiet back there, save for the rustling of squirrels and birds.

By the end of the day the sunlight streams through the branches and it puddles underneath.

Whenever I enter this little backyard forest of ours I feel everything melt away. It is that serene. And it smells great.

Here’s my collection of “good sticks.” I have a special admiration for Y-shaped ones. (all images click to embiggen)

 

I like how they spontaneously form into a wigwam-like shape.

 

Grass can’t grow back here. So I just broke up a bunch of sticks and call it “ground cover.” They snap when you walk on them.

 

And here’s an old stump we hauled in here to use as a chopping block. And now it simply serves as an ecology lesson. It’s softer than feathers in there.

Here’s a close up in case you didn’t believe me.

 

Beyond the stump is a swath of green. It looks like there’s a woodland path worn down the middle. Cat path? Rabbit? Racoon? All three?

 

Broken clay pots. Our spidery compost bin. This is different than the two compost heaps we have for grass and leaf matter.

 

The bigger picture. Sorry, from this view it doesn’t look like much.

 

And here’s the view of the house from where I stand.

 

Within the next few years we’re planning to build an addition on the back of the house. At that time I am hoping to have the backyard professionally returned to a a more foresty state. I’d like to add a few more trees, take out the grass, and lay down a twisty path of flagstone that leads to a stone bench or two.