We have become the delinquents in the neighborhood but not because our house is bright blue, or there is a couch on the porch. No, none of those things. Our crime is unruly plants and a whirligig. We have strict enforcement around here when it comes to how one's house and yard should look. The neighborhood feels so methodical and antiseptic. If you bend the rules, you'll get a "friendly reminder" to correct it before they fine you the price of your car. I realize that I did choose this. Sharing your life with someone that has the better house means choosing the better house. It is what it is for now.
If you drive down our alley you would be able to pick out our house. The strip of grass behind the fence has been replaced with honeysuckle, rose bushes, mint, and sedum. Ivy is slowly creeping up the brick walls, and purple jew, more mint and sedum are making their way along the side of the house. The whirligig aimlessly twirls with the breeze like a beacon for all things free. In the front you'll find a large moon flower that has been removed a number of times, but continues to pop back out every spring. It has the most beautiful, fragrant flowers that only bloom at night. And then there is the burr oak tree. The late bloomer. The cause of a recent notice.
The funny thing about this notice is that the tree is not dead. An oversight, indeed. It appeared dead, but it was simply waiting for the right time to bloom. And alas, two days after the notice, all the dead leaves were gone and it was budding.
Our yard is not a mess. Any other place, it would be normal. We keep our grass cut and the weeds gone. We just like our flower beds to look a little more unruly. I like to call it natural. My home, with it's colorful and lively flora, is my everyday oasis and I just love it, dead tree or not.