Does how you keep your backyard matter? Can you draw conclusions about someone from how their backyard looks and what they do there? If you live in a neighborhood like ours where backyards are open and generally visible, you do not have to be a snoop to see a lot of your neighbor's backyard.
Since front yards are mostly visible as you drive through a neighborhood, people tend to keep them in good shape since all their neighbors see them. Front yards are generally similar to others in the neighborhood. Backyards are less visible to the neighborhood as a whole so they are often different and perhaps those differences have a story to tell.
What you do with your backyard is often more private than what you might do in front of your home. I have heard it said that the true measure of your character is revealed when you know that no one is watching. If that is the case, are our backyards a window into our collective souls?
We have had some interesting backyards. The one that is pictured at the top was actually part of a twenty-plus acre hay field in Nova Scotia. We lived on a farm, we made a garden in our backyard and parked farm equipment there. The only thing peering into our backyard was our neighbor's flock of sheep. Our second backyard was also on a farm which stretched back over a mile into the woods but our real backyard there was a small grassy area that we kept mowed so that our children and the neighbors' children could easily move between the two houses.
After we left the farms and moved back to the states, our home in Columbia, Maryland, had a backyard of mostly dead pine trees. It definitely was not inviting. We eventually got permission to have them cut down and grass planted in their place. It made for a much more pleasant backyard but we did not stay there long enough to figure out if a nice backyard made a difference.
Our next home in Roanoke, Virginia, had a steep bank behind the house. It kept me busy for years cutting trees and keeping brush subdued. My efforts kept trees from growing up and blocking our amazing view. The deck with that unbelievable view became a favorite gathering place for the neighborhood. Our backyard in Roanoke was an open invitation to a party on our deck.
The land behind our home on the North Carolina coast was pretty rough where our land touched the water of Raymond's Gut, but I managed to subdue it within a few years. It is now a park-like place of privacy where my wife and I garden. It is also where I launch my kayak and our skiff. While it is manicured, it also has a very healthy buffer of marsh grass to protect the waters of the White Oak River which is where Raymond's Gut ends up. It is my place to launch trips into waters of the Crystal Coast but I also have a fish cleaning station that is available to any of my neighbors. I have had some great conversations sitting on the dock while a neighbor cleaned his fish. Our coastal backyard is a place where we connect with nature and nature connects with us. It is also a place where I make compost that I share with gardening friends.
We have never really been confined by a backyard fence unless you count the page wire fence that kept the cattle out of our New Brunswick yard. Even when I was growing up, we did not have a fence. The backyard of my youth in Lewisville, North Carolina, was a road to adventure. One corner of our yard backed up on abandoned fields which adjoined woodlands that seem to swallow us at the slightest provocation and only spit us out as daylight was disappearing.
Our backyard has never been a place to throw trash or hide junk. It has been a window into our lives as we maintain our connection with the soil and the rest of the natural world. One of the first things my new wife did in Nova Scotia was to buy a lawnmower so that I could do a better job mowing our St. Croix Cove yard.
Our backyards have been a way to touch others in a world that seems to be withdrawing from human connections.
We have enjoyed a lot of backyard conversations over the years. I have noticed as I have aged and my neighbors have gotten younger over the years that some people care little for their backyards. They spend most of their time inside and about the only time you see them outside is when they are chasing an uncooperative pet.
Having spent a good chunk of my life cutting brush and fighting weeds in our backyards, I have struggled to understand those that seem to lack my enthusiasm for cleaning up a backyard. I once had a Kudzu crusade in Mount Airy where I asked a neighbor if it was okay to also kill the Kudzu on his lot. It seemed the only way to subdue the weed. He was happy for me to go after it. My backyard in Roanoke, Virginia included a trail of two miles that I kept clean and free of poison ivy after the owner gave me permission. The trail became a wonderful place to take our Lab and a place to see everything from turkeys to spring wildflowers and other hikers.
Just maybe those who remain happy with a jungle of a backyard are not really interested in interacting with the rest of us. Perhaps the uninviting backyard is meant to discourage interaction. A fence even puts an exclamation point on it. Over the years I have even seen people taking advantage of overgrown bushes and grasses as a place to throw dog poop. Certainly, those that would do this here on the coast are close to giving their neighbors the finger since we all depend on the waters they are intentionally polluting.
As we are looking for our next home, I am going to look closely at backyards. A messy backyard might mean a neighbor that I would rather not have. A neat backyard with gardens and a well-tended yard with no fences could mean someone who is open to interactions with their new neighbor.
Maybe the front of the house is just a fancy slipcover over the soul of a house. It could be the backyard is the window that provides the truth. If I pay attention to the backyard, I just might get some insight that could help narrow our decision.
