Capturing the hill

Our house in a development in Chestersprings has three porches-front, side, and back. We can choose where we sit depending on the season and the position of the sun. In the winter we choose the warm front porch, facing east, in the morning and the rear porch in the late afternoon. In the summerwe choose the shady back porch in the morning and the front porch in the late afternoon. Regardless of the season we like the side porch best. It is cool even on the hottest days because it is shaded by a large tract of woods on a hill to the south of us.

One day in this past spring while we were having a drink in the late afternoon, my wife remarked about the hill fronting the wooded area. There are some large rocks at the bottom, she noted, that would look nice if there were flowers behind them. I took her words seriously and began uncovering two or three rocks which projected pointy prominences upward. As I dug I realized that , like an iceberg, the rocks were largely buried undergroup. I moved away years of earth and weeds covering them and planted some heather that I purchased at Lowes. They were striking with purple blooms and made a statement behind the rocks which could now better be described a boulders. I began exploring and found that there were not two or three but 25 hidden boulders spread out in a large semi-circle at the base of the hill. It required several weeks to uncover them all. Returning to Lowes I brought a dozen more heather and planted them and them a dozen lavender, also with purple flowers. The hill was beginning to look very good. I persuaded the gentleman who mows our pitiful quarter acre lot to also weed whack the hill. We had already appropriated the large area beneath the woods by erecting four bird feeders, attracting a wide variety of species, not only birds, but squirrels, chipmonks,rabbits, and occasionally even deer and foxes. The Development gardeners would no longer mow where we planted and bird fed so our mower took it over. I did not own the property but believing it is easier to apologize than ask permission I kept planting on what we now called Bunker Hill, Heather Hill, or simply Marvin" Hill.

Along the crest of the hill was a deep thicket or honeysuckle, barbed wild roses that never bloomed and various unattrtactive weeds. I, for a penny, in for a pound. I began to chop away at the unattractive mess, hoping to expose the contour of the crest.. As I pruned, at the expense of numerous thorn cuts and two tic bites, the hill was assuming a new personality. Behind the thicket were large oak tess that I knew existed because we could see their branches, but had never seen the trunks. I felt myself a sculptor who envisions a form hidden in a block of marble and chisels away the excess until the form is realized. I, too, would slice away the excess and create a living panorama. Slowly and carefull I cut vines and brush, dumping the waste deeper in the foliage and creating creating depth to my masterpiece.
We now had a three dimensional view into the darkened woods and could see the goldfinches, blue jays and cardinals well before they approached our feeders. Deer came onto the property at dusk. We learned to recognize the families of squirrels and chipmonks and their habitats. My work is now cut out for me. Eventually I will extend the manicured forrest edge along the entire length of my driveway. Neighbors stop by and comment on the project and thank me for improving the neighborhood. I have, indeed, captured the hill. We sit and sip our vodka tonics and i recall Robert Frost's "Stopping by woods on a snowy evening"-- The woods are lovely dark and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to before I sleep.