The Backyard

As I write this blog tonite, I'm sitting in my backyard. I'm staring up at the moon, covered by a blanket of trees, and I feel a peace that I find no where else.

I've always been fascinated by the world in the backyard.

My Grandma, Dorothy, always had the most beautiful, Martha Stewart-ish backyard. I remember skipping over her stone pathway and being careful not to let my feet touch the brown earth. On the the bricks, I was safe.

My Nanny, Josephine, always had the most animated, fun yard. I remember sitting on top of sheep skin rug(not real) which layed on top of her concrete patio set. The rugs protected our bottoms from the rough, hard concrete.

While both yards were very different, they both encouraged my love affair with the backyard.

As a child, I played in the backyard. We hid, we dug, we looked for bugs. We picked string beans, we played ring around the Rosy, we had picnics on the back lawn and ran barefoot under the sprinkler. It was fun, in it's simplest form.

As a teenager, I often found calmness in the solitude of the backyard. I'd stare up at the sun, asking questions. At the moon, searching for answers. I thought my thoughts, into the sky. It felt good. No one judged me in the backyard.

In my 20's and early 30's, I found peace in my backyard. No one could bother me there. It was my one safe place. I would lay on the lounge chair, and I could almost hide from all my monsters. I say almost, because sometimes they would find me. But in the backyard, they were never as scary.

Most of the thoughts in my mind were quieted by the silence of the backyard. Sure, I could hear a dog barking in the distance, or a neighbor talking. But the sounds were in the distance, so my space was untainted by the noise.

I spent many nights falling asleep to the sound of crickets. They are the best sound machine. I often woke up, curled up in my lounge chair startled by the flecks of sun shining through the new sky.

Those were my best nights of sleep. I don't know why but even when I was home alone and my house held no voices, it was quieter with the crickets, in the backyard. And it seemed less lonely.

The night sounds always made me feel safer. Protected. The phone doesn't ring in the backyard. You don't have to talk in the backyard. You don't have to be polite or dress up. You can be you. in the backyard.

Now, in my mid-30's, though my backyard thoughts are quite different, I still find the peace I found in my past. I must admit, however, I don't sit in the backyard as often as I once did. There is too much going on inside that I want to share in.

But, every once in a while, Tom will see me heading out the back door with a blanket, and he will know where I'm going. Sometimes, he comes out with me. Sometimes, he stays inside. But either way, he knows, most likely the crickets will sing me to sleep.

I sure hope those crickets are getting ready to sing their tune. Right now it's just the moon and I and one of us needs to be sung to sleep.