Our tenants left us very little other than holes, scrapes, marks, scrap tires, 20 gallons of paint and broken glass. (Oh, we did find the quarter behind the mirror; we'll give that as a credit.)
One thing they didn't desecrate was a rosebush. (They probably didn't know it was there.) This week, while I was working outside near it, the bush bloomed.
I had planned to widen the sidewalk near the flowerbed a few years back and had installed a 4"x6" beam border as a promise to myself to add brick pavers there.
A different group of tenants relocated the border and I found myself moving it 9" back to accommodate the brick pavers we had salvaged from Wandle Avenue when they ripped out the brick and installed concrete.
We have dozens of these pavers left, which is a good things since I estimated that I'd need over 30.
All those years ago, I'd dug out to 5-6", laid out some plastic sheeting and added chipped limestone as a base. This served me well since it was exactly what I needed. As soon as the 4"x6" beam border was back where it belonged, I was set.
The rose chose this time to begin blooming.
I'd warned our youngest not to pick this one; to restrain her urge to lop off the head of any pretty flower and present it to her mother. A noble deed, no doubt, but one that is tiresome when the dining room table is full of drinking glasses with decapitated flowers and the garden is bare.
I was busy and working against the sun clock as the shade I enjoyed on the west side of the house became threatened by approaching noon. So I didn't actually see much of the rose opening—I smelled it open.
It was an odd pair of days. I'd wait until it was decently late to begin chipping concrete off pavers and then rush until the area I was working on was drenched in sun. All the while I dealt in dripping sweat, dry crushed limestone, chips of red, flint-smelling brick and the light, sweet smell of this rose.
How it had survived all these years, I do not know. But survived it had.
The buttercups and thistles and maple, buckeye and oak volunteers had not crowded it out, nor had the children climbing in and out of the windows squashed it.
It had survived and it was beautiful to behold as well as a scent to enjoy.
Maybe someday I'll post a picture of my beautiful sidewalk expansion. It's really quite plain in comparison.
