We planted lilies of the valley. We still get green onions. The onions are BIG.

I think a person planted the onions intentionally: someone who lived in this house before we did. They are strong and stealthy (the onions, not the gardener), the kind we call walking onions. When not harvested, they sprout a new bulb on the top. The bulb’s weight tips the onion stalk to the ground, and the bulb begins to grow a new onion plant. And the cycle goes on. Not that I complain; they’re delicious, fresh, and free!

Guerrilla gardening may have begun in the late sixties or early seventies as part of the Flower Power movement. Today it seems like part of a green movement, a desire to beautify vacant lots or trashy looking property. Mother Nature Network covered the Guerrilla Gardening movement in London, where gardeners sneak out with their seeds and trowels under cover of darkness for fear of discovery. Their motto is “Fight the Filth with Forks and Flowers.” Their weapons? Spades and seed bombs.

I have guerrilla gardeners around my neighborhood, too. Here’s the evidence. This flower was inside the barrier, not outside, when I planted the bulb. I’m sure of it. Did the London brigade sneak into my yard?

Then there’s the lone tulip in the daylilies. I didn’t plant it there. Not a chance. But a stealthy gardener with a fascinating accent didn’t plant this. No one from across the Big Pond (not Lake Michigan, you dolt, the Atlantic) came over to move my bulbs.