A Joyous Perspective on the Backyard: Taking a little piece of myself wherever I a call 'home'.

Our 'new' backyard at Henderson's Holly Court Haven

Tonight at our Friday Night Thought Tale Hour with the Hendersons, I would like to share with you some perspectives I've gathered on the subject of "The Backyard." I'm sure the word conjures up a variety of notions in most everyone's mind. The smell of bbq, the taste of mudhole treats, dandelion chains - just a few that popped into my skull. It struck me that I have always found a way to create a little space for myself outdoors in the dozens of places I've called home in my life. Perhaps you'll find the same common denominator in your life whether you've lived a hundred places or just one. So let's take a look at some of the ways this space has left a mark on our lives.

You can take the kid off the farm...

Me and cousin Sandy, circa 1971.

The concepts of what I can include in a 'backyard' were shaped early in my life as a person raised on a Farm in Central California. My childhood did not include fences as guidelines, but property lines drawn by dirt roads or a line of Walnut trees. The backyard contained such items as the garden, which was always producing some food to be stored or eaten for dinner. The animals, who were also a part of the food chain somewhere, and randomly parked farm equipment parked where it was left and ready for its next use. While there existed a vastness and openness that seemed to include anything but privacy, there was an unspoken rule that you did not enter into your neighbor's backyard uninvited.  Even if knew the people who lived here, you stood on the dirt driveway, waiting for the hand that would wave you in more closely. The backyard was an inner sanctum of the family in the home.

Size really does not matter...

A world all his own.

As I grew into an adult and moved into the city, my backyard boundaries changed, but my perspective of what it was for the place I called home did not budge. I viewed every small patio or screened porch as a place of sanctuary and personal poetry. I would carefully gather the items from my life that were designed to make the backyard our own. The backyard was the place where you could shut out the rest of the world and think out loud or silently. Conversations could be carried on with particular abandon. Your neighbors could be a few feet away, but they have not been invited in, so they are psychologically walled off. On occasion, you glance over the fence or through the barrier and smile or wave. But that is where the contact ceases unless there is a slight wave of the hand, indicating an offer of an entrance to your world.

Six-foot high privacy, please.

California suburbia calls for a backyard with high fences that protect the play equipment, swimming pool, and various items that make this your little amusement park. Gates are locked and broken boards immediately repaired. I could let my children and their "invited friends" roam freely in this domain. Those on the outside of the fence could only wonder what frivolity might be taking place over the fence in my very private backyard. The gate is another doorway to your life and just entered by invitation.

Striped and exposed in the Midwest yard.

No modesty in our relaxation.

Near the middle of my life, I relocated to the Midwest. On my very first visit, I walked into a friend's backyard and stopped cold. There was no fence - only a small row of hedges that were nearly non-existent. Even those who did have a 'fence' chose material that was completely transparent and never over four feet in height. I felt exposed and uncomfortable. I had become accustomed to my private backyard sanctuary, and I needed it. House hunting confirmed that six-foot-high fences did not often exist in this land of corn and soybeans. But there was something added to this environment that softens the blow once I came to accept it. I was surrounded by a new kind of warmth and appreciation for the life of the backyard. I quickly learned that in this land, there was a significant part of the year that one could not endure being outdoors. This weather factoid made the time spent in one's backyard precious. I now understand that they backyard experience here in the Midwest should be a shared one, to spread the joy of our small outdoor seasons. Fences remain low or removed to provide a view of the revelry we cultivate whenever possible.

A place where the inside blends with the outside.

He makes me relax inside or outside.

Knowing this about your backyard can provide tremendous insight to those you who bring you into their backyard world. Messy and cluttered yards don't indicate laziness as much as they speak to someone who needs to maintain a little disheveled in their lives. Strictly tidy and manicured probably means control brings them peace - don't leave your chair pulled out from the table. My backyard has little collections of flowers and funky furniture - colorful and little nonconformist. Two words that can sum me up, so I am my best case in point for my backyard theory.

Frivolity at Mom's house.

Everybody should find a way to have a backyard, even if it's just a windowsill over the kitchen sink. It's a place where all things outside blend with what is inside - in a real and allegorical way. An area of safety and comfort where we can go to just be. It can be a linkage to our neighborhood, no matter how vast - or a microcosm of a community.
After taking the time to consider this joyous perspective on the backyard, I settled upon three of my personal asides to suggest to those who might now take the time to create their backyard:

1) This backyard isn't your Grandparent's backyard.  While you may have many fond memories of other backyards that gave you solace, do not fall into comparisons and competitions. Look inside your home to small estuaries you love. Find ways to create those themes in the backyard.

Our backyard sign.

2) Place a message or placard that speaks to you somewhere prominently in your space. This place is where you go to feel connected to the rest of the world while being apart from it at the same time. Remember to muse.

3) Backyards don't have just to be 'in the back.' Your backyard might be a Front Stoop or a balcony overlooking the parking lot. Mark the space and own it.

Tonight Chris and I will enjoy what could be one of the last pleasant evenings of the year in our backyard. I found this cool little Greek Aperitif called, "Skinos Mastiha" to sip slowly for the occasion. I hope that wherever you are tonight, or later in the weekend, you find a way to experience a lovely moment in the place you call your backyard. Maybe rearrange the pots, and wave a neighbor inside. CHEERS, FRIENDS!
(Please leave me a comment below and tell me about your favorite backyard)