Jun
22
As the sidewalk garden grows, so do the expressions of appreciation for it. You may remember the garden I wrote about in April. This week I received a postcard from a neighbor who took the time to thank me in writing even though she doesn’t (yet!) know my name.
It’s still nice to hear people shout, “Thank you for growing your garden,” as they drive by in a hurry. But it’s even better to see the thanks in writing.
Apr
7
I live on a very busy street where traffic can resemble the Autobahn or a pre-Christmas line at the post office, depending on the time of day. About a year ago, our county decided to install sidewalks, which had many of us wondering how our property values might be affected. At the end of what seemed like never-ending construction, the contractor slapped down a strip of sod in a space between the curb and the sidewalk. My olive-drab patch seemed unlikely to survive, so I decided to replace it with a wildflower garden.
I spent days digging up the rocks and concrete in the shallow space, replacing them with potting soil. It would have been a relaxing activity, except that I had to keep one eye peeled for speeding commuters and the other fixed on the task at hand. Finally, I was relieved to sow my bags of seeds from a standing position, which gave me a fighting chance of survival if an errant vehicle careened in my direction.
Within a few weeks, the flowers began to sprout and I would look forward to getting home each day to inspect nature’s progress. Before too long, neighbors started stopping by, too. I call them neighbors, but they were really just strangers who happened to share my same zip-code. As the poppies and miniature sunflowers began to fill in and nod their heads in the breeze, I began to get comments from drivers who slowed or honked in approval.
“Thank you for growing your garden,” they shout. “It puts me in a good mood everyday.” Lord knows, we need more Atlanta drivers who are in a good frame of mind.
Spring turned to summer and more and more walkers and runners began to populate the sidewalks, often with their dogs in tow. My little roadside garden provided conversation alchemy. Anonymous faces have become casual friends. There is the power-walker in the floppy bonnet who strides by with news about the vacant lot down the way. The nurses who walk and talk over their lunch break, stopping to admire the flowers. The MARTA commuter, relieved for a safer trek to the station. And, our next-door neighbors, who have re-emerged after years behind their fence to offer homegrown tomatoes.
The sidewalk has been good for me, too. It makes me venture out with my frisky Jack Russell, who is a conversation starter himself. He has introduced me to a retired couple several blocks away who have shared offshoots from their purple hydrangas and a Greek seamstress who has offered me a cutting from her fig tree. As I see it, the sidewalk we worried about has actually improved our property values and our quality of life. It’s been the catalyst for conversation and community.
It’s seed sowing time again, so I’ve been back at the sidewalk turning the soil and pulling up weeds. The traffic this year seems kinder and gentler. They de-accelerate as they approach my patch. They smile as they jog and tell me they are looking forward to the flowers. This year, I might add some suggestive signage for the diehards, encouraging them to stop and smell the roses.
