Front Porch: Raking in the glories of spring

It’s springtime, and we’re on the cusp of being able to dig into the garden and plant, plant, plant.

But not quite yet. I know we’re not supposed to tromp about on the soil where this year’s green and other pretty-colored things will eventually grow, according to master gardener advice about aeration, staying off wet dirt, etc.

But some kinds of cleanup are OK.

And so, I eagerly take rake and pitchfork out into the backyard to begin again my annual assault on pine needles. The backyard has been left largely as Mother Nature created it, though for the sake of fire safety and a bit of tidiness, I do rake up the needles every year – from the east side of the house through the large, sloped, natural expanse on the south side that constitutes the yard in the back. Lots of ponderosa pines out there.

Some years, I actually get most of it all raked up and carted off – one weekly green yard-waste bin at a time, but there are always some amount of hold-over needles awaiting when the new outdoors season begins – primarily those that landed on bare ground in places where I had raked earlier in the season, and to which I wasn’t able to return for a second harvest before snow hid them away for the winter.

It’s a horticultural version of Sisyphus and that stupid rock he keeps pushing up that impossible hill.

For many years I ignored the growing carpet of needles that was building up, thickening away over time like a callus. It provided nice soft tread for the deer that make trails through it, and it kept the weeds down. But eventually, as we battled more and more drought in the region, concern over fires and just the dankness of it all got to me, and I dove in – almost literally.

At first it was a chore. But now I’ve come to love it. Once the snow clears, I pick a spot (usually right where I left off the previous fall), pick up my metal garden rake and create a pile of all the needles I can smush into one green can. Enter the pitchfork for transfer into the can, then park the can by the side of the house until collection day. If the needles have settled, I’ll top off the can with some more before moving the can to the curb.

Repeat process the next week.

What I have found is how soothing it is. I can let my mind travel where it will (with enough attention kept in reserve so as not to stab myself in the foot with the pitchfork) while breathing in the nice fresh cool air. Right now, I still need to wear a coat. Soon, just a vest, then just a sweatshirt, long-sleeved knit shirt and eventually a T-shirt.

There are five things that make this a looked-forward-to activity. First, it gets me up out of my chair and outdoors earlier in the season then I’d probably go otherwise. Second, there’s the wandering mind pleasure already mentioned. Third, I love the definite sense of accomplishment. Fourth, there’s the exercise involved, sorely needed after a sedentary winter. And fifth, because the land is hilly, with exposed roots and rocks and other tripping hazards, I really have to engage what’s left of my sense of balance – and that’s good for me.

Our eldest son was home for a bit last fall, and before he left in early December to return to his own home, he raked down from some of the steep embankments a bunch of pine needles I’d left in place for a few years, including those underneath several large evergreen shrubbery, mostly because scrambling up to get them was more of a challenge to my balance than was sensible.

Those piles of needles awaited me when the snows melted, and I was eager to dive in, so to speak, along with tackling the other needles in the more reachable places that I had hoped to get to, but didn’t, in 2021. Hip replacement surgery and an ailment or two slowed down progress last year, so I was maybe three-fourths of my way through the yard when winter shut down operations.

But this is 2022. It’s early spring. I can just see the nubs of the rhubarb starting to poke through the soil, so I’ve been doing my own version of “needlework” for weeks now.

Soon – selecting annuals, potting dahlia rhizomes, planting tomatoes and again donning my virtual chainmail to do battle with the deer to keep the pretty things growing in my yard and not a buffet for their bellies.

And, of course, there’s the raking.

Ah spring. I’m looking forward to it all.

Correspondent Stefanie Pettit can be reached at upwindsailor@comcast.net.