the little tree that could

this is one of our country's oldest cities. it's densely populated and the buildings jostle for elbow room. its geography is such that it has been forced to remain *small* -- bound by a narrow but long river, perched on the atlantic's edge and not far from the area's highest mountains. closest to europe, the streets hold similar patterns and skyline retains a modest scale.

like many other eastern cities after the civil war, a great rush came on to develop and design greenways. the industrial revolution was in full gear, and cities were dirty sooty places. the streets were teeming, filthy and fraught with mucky peril for both ankle and boot. parklands were envisioned as egalitarian idylls where the tycoon and the mill worker could stroll and escape the urban press and din. frederick law olmstead gave us the "emerald necklace", a series of interconnecting parks and waterways, spanning 7 miles and 1000 acres. combined with other land, this is a very green city indeed, and considered first in the nation for its committment to open space.

over the centuries, parcels got gobbled up for projects of either benevolence or corruption, so a new park in this old city is rare indeed. my loft looks out onto just such a gem. the weekday cacophony of earthmoving equipment can be nerve-wracking, and of course the project is long past deadline. but at last, the demolished detritus of highway overpass and industrial storage has been carted away, and inch by inch i'm witnessing 40 acres brought back to life. no cows are grazing, but kids and dogs are afoot. the soccer stadium (please, no eye-rolls at the hard irony) is complete and in enthusiastic use. the playgrounds, gazebos and paths all in place. the baseball diamond sketched out and seeded. old-growth trees were worked around and make for a mature nerve-center winding throughout and off to the ocean.

last week mountains of topsoil were dumped and spread. this week, dozens of young trees have been planted. i'm cheered to see the designer didn't default to one urban-hardy species, like ginko or arborvitae. instead we've got much diversity in both the visual and the textural.

when i created gardens in my last home, i was always filled with satisfaction at the freshly turned earth and the promise of future growth and beauty. the little sycamores and willows are putting down roots and starting a new life here, just like me. the trees have been kid-gloved by a glorious indian summer these past weeks. i've had no such gentle treatment, but i'm digging down to dig in too.