By Patrick F. Cannon
Two weeks ago, I was giving a tour at Frank Lloyd Wright’s Home & Studio in Oak Park, Illinois. As I assembled the group (from France, Spain, and Chicago this time), I noticed an emerging carpet of tiny blue flowers at the edge of the grass that hadn’t been there the week before. In an area of ground cover in front of the house there were tiny yellow blooms struggling to emerge from the tangle. I think both are varieties of crocus, but I’m no horticulturist
They are, however, harbingers of Spring. As are the increasing number of squirrels one sees, as well as an odd bunny or two. When did you see your first Robin? I saw my first one a couple of weeks ago. He was pecking away in the grass in front of my building. It had rained, and there were worms and bugs lurking there. They are incredibly quiet and you must get close to them before they fly away. I’m no birder, but I won’t be surprised to see a Cardinal one of these days; and if I’m lucky, a Goldfinch or two.
My balcony overlooks an alley, but a nicer alley than most. The buildings and houses I can see are all well-kept; many have trees and gardens in their back yards. A few days ago, I noticed just a touch of green in tree canopies, the first buds beginning to open. This effect was even more noticeable when I drove next to a forest preserve on the way to visit a friend the other day. I also saw a small herd of white-tailed deer through the trees. Is there anything lovelier than these gentle neighbors? Before long, when I look out the window, the trees will suddenly be in full leaf.
The local Jewel food store has begun to sell annual flower flats. I don’t have a garden, but I do have a balcony. Because of the chancy Chicago-area climate, I’ll wait until May before I buy pots of pre-arranged flowers at my favorite nursery. I’ll need to change them out one more time before Fall. But as I walk and drive though my own Forest Park and neighboring Oak Park and River Forest, I get to enjoy the flower gardens and perfectly trimmed lawns of my neighbors without having had to do the work myself!
I’m not a fan of anti-lawn movement that replaces the tended front yard with a mini prairie. I would like to see more open land returned to the prairie landscape that once existed in parts of Illinois, much like we have set aside land for forest preserves. But you can’t bring back the prairie with a patch of land 30 or 40 feet by 20.
If you truly hate grass, there are many options to replace it — ground cover, neatly mulched annual and perennial flowers, and plants, even a Japanese garden, with its small trees and shrubs and patterned sand. And please consign the vegetable garden to the back. The untended messes I’ve seen, particularly in Oak Park, are studies in chaos –and you can get better vegetables at the Farmer’s Market!
P.S. Happy Easter!
Copyright 2026, Patrick F. Cannon
cannonnadedotcom 
Sumer is icumen in
Lhude sing cuccu
Groweþ sed
and bloweþ med
and springþ þe wde nu
Sing cuccu.
April may be the cruelest month, a time for sulphur and molasses, but spring in this neck of Hoosierland usually starts March 1 (this year, a few days earlier, in February with the first tornado warning).
By April, the crocus sativa, daffodils and forsythia have long given way to redbud and crab apple. Magnolia blossoms are gone and grass is bushy. Leaves are emerging on trees and shrubs, and ferns are starting to unwind. Lilacs, peonies, day lilies and irises will soon follow, along with dogwood.
This spring has been one of temperature extremes. We’ve had daytime highs in the 80s only to take long dives into ice the next day. Imagine wearing shorts and flip flops one morning and coats and sweaters the next. Thankfully, the temps are started to even out.
One sure sign of spring around is the pungent scent of mulch. Along with pulling trailers and mowing lawns, a prime Hoosier pastime is spreading mulch on gardens. Where Chicagoland has crews of Latino landscapers everywhere running huge, noisy mowers over tiny front lots, Mayberry has pickup trucks filled to the brim with mulch, spreading it house to house. For newly seeded lawns, they spread straw. You never see peat moss (which probably works better).
Another sure sign is pollen. It falls from trees in misty clouds (seriously!) and coats everything, including the inside of your nostrils, with yellow-green dust.
Gesundheit!
We have deer in the neighborhood all year round. We’ve seen fawns born and nursed (and conceived!) in the back yard. In summer it’s an ongoing battle between Jill and the deer over the flowers she’s planted.
Deer lack natural predators other than automobiles, so they multiply. The DNR regularly culls herds of them in nearby preserves (to the protests of townie nature lovers), otherwise the voracious creatures would devour everything in sight and upset the ecological balance. Outside of town, people hunt them for food and sport. A contractor we hired once told me he likes venison more than beef (and it’s tastier than squirrel or rabbit). De gustibus.
Despite their Bambi-like manners, deer are a nuisance. At night it’s dangerous to crash into them. They drop piles of pellets on your lawn and, worse, carry ticks. Not good.
We’re surrounded by trees and have an abundance of birdlife. People think robins migrate in winter and return in the spring, but they don’t. They just leave lawns when the ground freezes to flock in nearby woods and return in warm weather when worms start emerging again.
Since we’re surrounded by trees and shrubs, we have an abundance of bird life. In addition to robins, we have cardinals, blue birds, blue jays, wood peckers, nuthatches (two kinds!), titmice, chickadees, song sparrows, wrens. gold finches and a bunch of others like warblers, kingbirds, thrushes and vireos that occasionally wander over from less residential areas. It’s nice here.
Like you, I’m no lawn fanatic and unlike a few neighbors, no fan of letting the ground cover around the house return to weeds (of the non-invasive type, of course). Only native plants will do.
Striving for lawn perfection here can be a challenge and frustration, however.
Those moles are darned headache to get rid of.
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