I live in the North End, the true North End--where most yards, but not all, have a rather untamed look to them. When spring comes to the North End, two things become much more apparent: the garbage which accumulated over winter and is no longer hidden by the snow, and the growth of certain plants which particularly thrive in the yards of our community. Both can be seen as annoying. The garbage should be taken care of in the next week or so. The plants are another story.
Some are stubborn weeds like dandelion and burdock. Others are the result of history--it would seem that those who came before us had a particular liking for lilacs and rhubarb. I don't think there's anywhere else in the city where you can stroll the sidewalks and take in the delicious scent of lilacs yard after yard.
Unfortunately, many of these bushes, like mine, have been left to themselves and badly need some TLC. I am hoping to bring in a few branches and enjoy their beauty on my kitchen table (if I can reach them).
Rhubarb's large, ruffled leaves can be found all over the North End. I'm still not sure if these wild plants have edible stalks or not. I do love when my neighbour gives me a bunch to chop and freeze. It's yummy cooked up with strawberries on top of pancakes. (Sharing among neighbours is another thing I love about the North End, but I'll save that for another day).
That leaves dandelions and burdock (those tall stalks with burrs that stick to you in fall). They could probably be discussed in their own story, so for now, I’ll say this about my community: there is a beauty that can be found in my community, passed down through generations of immigrants and other people who have struggled to make a living here. Some of that beauty can be seen through what was planted long ago and has survived, and some of it is evident in the simple act of sharing what we have with each other. It is a good reminder to think of the effects our actions have on the future as well as on those we live near every day.
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