Nahanada Park — that emerald of open space at the foot of the Death Plunge on Nahanada Road — is looking mighty fine in the wake of last month’s lavish rains. The lawn and decorative landscaping alike have grown like metaphorical weeds with the returning sun. So too did the real weeds, and despite what the casual observer might assume, they were not spirited away by elves in the dead of night. Last Tuesday, acting Park Committee chair Gretchen Murray marshaled a squad of ninja weed-wrasslers to roll up the carpet of creeping wild strawberries, root out the oak and maple seedlings, and rip down whatever that tall, spindly stuff was that had sprung up amidst the roses. A big thank-you to Gretchen, Sheila Jaeger, Gail Kimball, Mary and John Otto, and Dotty Reilly for doing the bulk of the work; when your humble correspondent showed up (on time, for a change!) the job was already half done.

Most of these stalwarts were middle-aged when the Sprucewold Improvement Association put in the park nearly 20 years ago (more on that in another column), and although the ground these days seems to be farther down than it was, and getting up from it afterwards is definitely more complicated than it used to be, our current crop of volunteers is happy to continue lending a hand — or a hoe — for the foreseeable future. They are, however, looking for someone who wasn’t already in junior high when Sputnik was launched to assume the reins: communicating with the contractors who do the mowing, mulching, and such; organizing the occasional weeding party when needed; and, in general, taking an interest in the park’s future. The job offers plenty of fresh air and sunshine, and shouldn't take more than an hour or so a month — what’s not to like? Contact Almus Thorpe, almusthorp@gmail.com, if you’re interested.

In other gardening news, here’s a potentially hot tip: in years past, everything we’ve planted up here has been devoured by deer. We’d pretty much given up on growing anything except hostas in our yard, and a vegetable patch was out of the question ... But, like plastics and penicillin, a happy accident may have provided the answer. Last summer, our Bostonian bro Frankie “Guido” Sangiorgi, a Sicilian who likes his spices, decided to plant a few peppers alongside his tomatoes. The deer dutifully raided his produce as the fruit ripened — until the morning he awoke to discover several half-eaten jalapeños in a small pile of deer vomit. Bambi et al. haven’t been back since, so we’re trying the same trick ourselves. Our first crop is beginning to turn red, and far, so good!

And finally, a big thank you to the Linekin Bay Resort for the lovely fireworks display last Saturday in celebration of your centennial! Congratulations, and here’s to a successful century to come. We enjoyed the show immensely, but there’s one small favor we’d like to ask for next time, if you could — please pack a shade more propellant in the mortars to ensure that the bursts reliably clear the treetops as seen from our deck.