"Be an egg. Be a mockingbird. Be a weed"

 

April 23rd, 2022, the opening day of the thirteenth year for tending Prospect Gardens, arrived with mild temperatures that reached 80 degrees. Ann B. had already retrieved the bag of gardening stuff, which we refer as "the garage", from our apartment's closet. As I laced up my Fleet and Farm purchased boots, I felt tired and reluctant about going to the Gardens, a rare feeling. 

Shortly after arriving and opening up the garden shed, my weariness began to lift. All of us are feeling the weight of the world including the heart wrenching war in Ukraine. Friend Jody gave me the Ukrainian flag shortly after she arrived and following our  chat. Jody then began removing jewel weed. It's a good ground cover but tends to be aggressive. The flag is near the untitled sculpture, which reminds me of a heart. It's one that Marcia, a former neighbor, donated. She and Jim moved to Appleton to be nearer to a son and grandchildren. Left in the Gardens is this one and several other sculptures created by Marcia's sister.

Once again Prospect Gardens provided a refuge. As the morning unfolded, I increasingly felt the message of Margaret Renkl's poem.  

Be a Weed

Sometimes, when I haven’t slept or the news of the world,
already bad, suddenly becomes much worse, the weight of
belonging here is a heaviness I can’t shake. But then I think of
the glister of a particular morning in springtime. I think of
standing in the sunshine and watering the butterfly garden,
which is mostly cultivated weeds punctuated by the uncultivated
kind that come back despite my pinching and tugging. I think of
the caterpillars on the milkweed plants, unperturbed by the
overspray, and the resident red-tailed hawk gliding overhead,
chased by a mockingbird and three angry crows,
and the bluebird standing on the top of the nest box protecting his mate,
who is inside laying an egg. I think of that morning—not even a morning,
not even an hour—and I say to myself,
Be an egg. Be a mockingbird. Be a weed.

Yes indeed, be an egg, a mockingbird and/or a weed as 2022  unfolds. Say "Hello" to spring as the  painted window of the frame shop on Monroe Street proclaims to all passersby.

Spring, as those of you who live in Wisconsin know, is reluctant to stay. Our balmy 80 degrees will drop into the 50s by the middle of this week. Yet we can continue to be an egg, a mockingbird and/or a weed.

Since April 2021 another project has consumed many hours. I am the co-chair of the Dudgeon-Monroe Neighborhood Association WATER Team. We are doing activities funded by contributions and a sub grant from the UW Arboretum under its agreement with the Environmental Protection Agency. Our efforts involve engaging neighborhood residents on stormwater issues, which we have reframed as water stewardship.  In late September, we finished installing, at nearby Dudgeon Wingra School park, two rain gardens and a swale totaling 1600 square feet and with 1200 prairie plants. The deep roots of the prairie plants will filter and hold stormwater flowing from Wingra School's playground which is also part of a city park. The rain gardens reduce the amount of polluted stormwater from reaching nearby Lake Wingra while adding beauty to the park. The rain gardens are also an outdoor classroom for Wingra students. 

We are now putting the final touches on the Saturday, May 21st (1 to 4 pm) event entitled Lake Wingra Watershed Gathering. It's a family friendly event to be held in the shelter of Vilas Park and nearby tents. Our target audiences are residents from neighborhoods within or bordering the Lake Wingra Watershed. 

People from 30 organizations committed to clean water will share their knowledge about water stewardship and practices. Included are special activities for kids and a unique art exhibit with fourteen pieces depicting water projects.  Andi Cloud, member of the Ho Chunk nation, will be telling stories and leading other activities. We hope all ages will leave with new ideas to collectively ensure healthy lakes, streams, and the lands in-between. 

Here's a special invitation to all those in the Madison area. It will be a great celebration with opportunities to learn more about water stewardship from different perspectives. The presenters include individuals who have have put in rain gardens, plant vegetable gardens, turned their lawns into small prairies, and who have restored public spaces, like Prospect Gardens.  For more information see linktr.ee/lakewingrawatershedgathering

My return to Prospect Gardens, as I already indicated, reminded me to "Be an egg. Be a mockingbird. Be a weed"; another way of saying be grateful for the joys of spring. Joining Ann B., Jody, and I were three members of West High School's Leo Club and a friend of one of the members.  Next to me is Maddie, then Caden (the friend), Jody, and Elodie. Misha arrived later. My wife Ann B. took the picture.

Our major task was removing the dried plant remnants that during the winter provided seeds for birds and shelter for small animals. Although I did not see the chipmunks that dart on top of and between the rocks.  

Here's a few pictures of these hard working youth.  

Maddie was the first to arrive. Maddie came prepared for gardening, including her own gloves, and quickly understood the task. She cleared out one section by herself. 

Here's Caden  undaunted by the rocks and the steep slope as he removes the dried remnants of last year's plants. The cycles of renewal once again repeat themselves, aided by Caden's efforts.  

Likewise Elodie is undaunted by the steep slopes as she cuts back dried plants. Afterwards she along with her fellow high school students dug out jewel weed along the Regent side of the Gardens. The ground was moist from Friday's rain which made weeding easier. 

  

 

Misha and Caden at the end of our work session.  Misha's shorts and Caden's short sleeve shirt show that temperatures were reaching the high 70s. Misha was wearing a runners t-shirt. I asked her if she was a runner. We laughed when she told me in was her Grandfather's t-shirt from a 1987 event. I failed to read the line with that information. 

1987.... one year after Ann B., Emily  and I moved to Madison from Andover, Massachusetts. Thirteen years before the opening of the Southwest Path. Sixteen years before Emily graduated from West High School. So much living and so many memories.     

Thank you Leo Club members and Caden for your hard work and youthful energy.  Here's hoping that we can together tend the Gardens again.

Here's Jody, certainly not one of the Leo Club members.  Nevertheless another individual, along with Ann B., that contributed to my sense of well being as we tended Prospect Gardens. Thank you.

Before closing, I would be remiss if I didn't share a few pictures of spring Prospect Garden plants. Here's first season pussy willows. A few years ago, Marcia left a plastic pot with them. I planted them only to have the rabbits chew the branches down to a few inches. To my great surprise, green shoots appeared last season and now magical pussy willows; a symbol of renewal and associated with the Easter season. 

These remind me of the pussy willows in the swampy areas near the entrance of the mile long dead-end road to the farm on which I was born and lived until I was nearly 18. They were the first sign that the long and sometimes brutal winter was ending. Along that same road, red wing blackbirds appeared in early spring.  During the nesting seasons they  aggressively dive bombed my head as I walked to or returned from the mailbox, at the juncture of Highway 29 and our dead-end road. 

 Trilliums are another early signal of  spring.  These are special because they seeded themselves. They are the progeny of trilliums located in another section of the Garden, a good distance away from these newbies. 

  

Once again brown grasses are sending out new green shoots. These are in a steep area that once flooded during heavy rains. Water would pour through from the dead-end section of Prospect Avenue on the Regent side of the Gardens. The grasses' deep roots now hold the soil, greatly reducing washouts. 

Yes, these bleeding hearts are not a prairie plant. Yet it is special because it was given by Ann N., a volunteer. The plant is a symbol of our friendship and of Ann's generosity.

 Like the pussy willow, bleeding hearts remind me of those on our family farm and in particular, of my Grandma Julia. Bleeding hearts were part of her flower gardens while her vegetable gardens were her true passion. For years the bounty of her gardening labors fed our large family of fourteen children.

 I end with these Virginia Blue Bells, a native woodland wildflower.  Another early spring bloomer that easily spreads. This one is a "self starter" and has reappeared yearly. Bluebell flowers symbolize gratitude and humility or to reflect the last few sentence of Margaret Renkl's poem. 

"I think of that morning—not even a morning,
not even an hour—and I say to myself,
Be an egg. Be a mockingbird. Be a weed."