Backyard

In William Inge's Pulitzer Prize-winning play Picnic, the Bay Theatre folks spread a veritable entertainment banquet of delights - a visionary director, polished performances, a minimalist set exuding backyard Americana, authentic 1950s-era costumes and nostalgic music. With this stunning production, which runs through March, Bay Theatre has reached yet another pinnacle of excellence. The company's fame has spread from its 275 West St. stage to New York City, where Picnic's director, Gia Forakis, knew of the work of Bay's founders Lucinda Merry-Browne and Janet Luby.

Saying he was sending a warning to drunken drivers, a Baltimore County judge sentenced a Reisterstown woman yesterday to five years in prison for killing a 3-year-old boy when she lost control of her car and ran into his backyard.Circuit Judge Leonard S. Jacobsen imposed the sentence on Amy R. Bolte, 21, after she pleaded guilty to auto manslaughter in the death of Ryan Garth Davis-Shanahan, also of Reisterstown."We have to send a message to the people of this county, of all ages, that this madness has got to stop," the judge told more than 50 onlookers who crowded into the court gallery for the proceeding.

Scouring Federal Hill, Don Smith and Bob Marciak hoped they would find a spacious rowhouse, a little different in style, that would accommodate their wish for a backyard as a soothing refuge from the bustling city. They looked at about 50 houses, Smith recalled, before opening the door to a renovated century-old residence where a gas fireplace exuded a welcome feeling, where the wide living room had a wall of built-in cabinets and shelves, and where a graceful staircase and decorative columns drew the eye toward the rest of the house.

My husband and I had a kind of O. Henry Christmas. You remember the story. The woman cuts off her long hair and sells it to buy her husband a chain for his pocket watch. He sells his pocket watch to buy his love a comb for her hair. Our Christmas was like that. Sort of. I bought my husband a camping stove. And he thought about buying me a camping stove. He might actually have bought the camping stove if he hadn't seen an e-mail that was not intended for him in which I told his brothers I was buying him a camping stove.

Finding weather art doesn't seem like a very difficult task. The weather is everywhere. But finding art to freshly tell a very familiar story can be extraordinarily difficult. I have spent many hours looking for images that say something real about the day. Often without success. One recent Friday, the hottest day so far this year, I was looking for something that would reflect the oppressive weight of the day. I needed to send something early to be posted on the Web site, so there was not much time.

I collect leaves the old fashioned way, with a rake, a barrel and a kid. The rake assembles the leaves, the barrel holds them. Then the kid jumps in and squashes them.Long ago I was a leaf squasher, but last week I worked on the other side of the barrel as a gatherer. My 6-year-old started off raking. However, once the position of squasher opened up, he tossed aside the rake and the snow shovel, which he had used to scoop up the leaves, and climbed feet-first into the barrel.As dads do, I began to give the kid instructions.

WHEN A FIG ripens in the 2100 block of E. Baltimore St., somebody picks it. More than likely that somebody is either Ann Stacy or Carolyn Boitnott. They live a few doors apart from each other in the Butchers Hill neighborhood. They have fig trees in their backyards. At the peak of the fig harvest, usually around Labor Day, they organize a get-together called a "fignic." The event celebrates the fig, which most of us call a fruit, but a few picky botanists refer to as a flower. Underneath a spreading fig tree, partygoers stand on a series of adjoining backyard porches, eating, drinking and telling stories about the sweet, but fast-fading, fig. Folks who have a fig tree bring a dish to the party with the fruit in it. Other invitees bring a dish that is fig-free.

In England, where they take gardening seriously, you aren't considered a real gardener unless you start your flower and vegetable plants from seed.And while starting plants from seed may seem a quaint notion, like tea and crumpets, it's one of the best and least-expensive ways to landscape around such backyard amenities as the grill, the swing set and that all-purpose playing field known as your lawn.Sometime this month you may find your mailbox stuffed with seed-company catalogs, their pages filled with colorful visions of the glories of gardening.

It's springtime, and I remember when the view from my kitchen window was a lovely little backyard tableau of green lawn and swing set, happy tomato garden and sunny marigolds in patio pots. It was a scene that gave me a sense of order and peace. Inside, there might be laundry-basket-shaped wads of permanently creased wash dumped on my bed, an office cluttered with charge cords for every electronic device in our home and a freezer stocked with unidentifiable lumps -- but at least our backyard was lovely, pleasant and inviting.

The leaves fall and we rake them. Why? I pondered this autumnal question last weekend as I picked up a rake and took an initial pass at the backyard. What would happen, I wondered, if I let the leaves lie? The grass would probably die, smothered by the leaves. But in my case, with a rowhouse backyard and our kids grown and mostly gone, grass does not matter much. The neighbors might disapprove. But more than likely only if the leaves took flight, and jumped property lines. I also wondered whether I could break the leaf-raking habit.