Several things were special about the expansive backyard at 151 Palmer Avenue, Sleepy Hollow, NY, were we lived for a decade. One was the perfectly manicured garden created by the previous owner which included topiary, an espaliered pear tree and lush plantings too numerous to mention. Under my expert care, these did not last long. Another feature was a huge grinding stone from the 17th Century embedded in the soil. There’d been a mill and farm nearby on the Hudson River and it came from there, property owned by a wealthy Dutchman and operated by enslaved people from Africa. My backyard also had a bunny whom I befriended and fed lettuce and carrots to. But none of these things were the stars of the show. A particular set of bugs were.
© 2024 John Oliver
Substack is the home for great culture