Round Robin

Sitting in a chair in our den, I looked up and spied a chubby robin staring at me from her perch on the dogwood tree outside our second-story window. She looked perplexed. Then I heard it too. The slow but distinct rumble of a ........... lawnmower.

That is an unusual sound here in the city. But every so often a small plot of green appears amidst the patchwork quilt of streets and sidewalks that comprise our neighborhood. A defiant reminder that cement is not the world's dominant canopy.

Seemingly overnight, spring has arrived. Daffodils are blooming. The breeze off the water is warming. People are out on their decks barbecuing. 

I hope the robin decides to build her nest in that dogwood. It's always fun when new faces move into the neighborhood.

"A lawn is nature under totalitarian rule." – Michael Pollan