May is a frustrating month. So many things are happening, and there isn’t enough time to do them all. The yard seems to scream “Care for me!” The flowers appear as if by magic. All of my plant starts are getting anxious about just sitting there in their confining peat pots.

The dahlias especially need to go into the ground. Where should I put them this year to display their beauty to the world (or at least to 50 of my closest friends)? Just as I am about to release them to the outside, unprotected, the weather man says frost is imminent. Ah, well, I’ll pick some lettuce and put down some mulch instead.

My perennial collection is growing larger, not just in number, but in size. As I tour my acre, my eight-foot crabapple trees wave their blossom-laden branches. In the back I see the elderberries waving from their lofty 10-foot height. Closer to the house I am treated to the dogwoods getting ready to bloom.

Under the canopy of all that foliage the lilies and the ground cover are springing to life. The marsh marigolds have given way to the red and yellow osier dogwoods, which I have coppiced at the edge of a small bog. Fighting back the ferns begins in earnest, because they tend to overpower the striped grasses and turtleheads.

My ability to grow cardinal flowers is in serious question, but I have nursed one to life near my pond adjacent to the bog. It should be a nice contrast to the astilbes and lady’s mantle thrusting out of the ground with vigor.  

All this plant business is going on while I fight back the urge to go fishing. I keep hearing tales of fish jumping and big ones being caught. I give in (of course) and catch a few myself.

I come home tired, but happy and my wife says we need to take a walk. I clean the fish, take a quick tour of the yard, then off we go to some local trail to watch other like-minded people, many of them with their dogs and their clean-up tools.

I’ve outlived my need for pets, but I respect others who have them. Some of my best neighbors are dogs and cats. They keep the squirrels and chipmunks in line and discourage the deer from coming too close to my hostas and other prized plants.

I haven’t even gotten the waterfall pump in the pond yet. I always enjoy watching the first flow. The spiders and crickets race to higher ground and the resident chipmunk expresses some annoyance at his special area being damper than he likes it. So, just another job waiting while I go fishing or walking with my wife.

I must get it all done in time for my trip to visit relatives at the end of the month. I must take pictures of my environment to share at the reunion. My youngest sister lives in Corpus Christi, Texas, and she loves to see all the verdant growth I nurture.

Another May frustration concerns how early it gets light. We leave the window open a crack, and as the dawn arrives, so do the birds. Crows are better than an alarm clock. Add the jays and robins, and it becomes a veritable concert.

By: Bill Dawson, Tree Steward