The best getaway in NJ might be right outside your back door

We all love to get away. Whether it is the Shore, the Poconos, the Highlands, the Pine Barrens or somewhere beyond the state line — there is something about leaving that resets you.

But sometimes the best getaway is the one you take without going anywhere at all.

Before I came back to NJ 101.5 full time last August, I spent the first half of last year at home. January through July. I watched winter turn into spring and spring turn into summer from my own backyard. And somewhere in the middle of all that slow, quiet turning, I remembered something I had been too busy to notice for years.

My backyard is a pretty great place to be.

I am actually looking forward to mowing the lawn later today. I realize that is not something everyone says with genuine enthusiasm, but I mean it. There is something satisfying about that — the smell of fresh cut grass, the immediate visible result of the work, the way the yard looks when you are done. It gives you something.

A blank canvas behind every house

When we move into our homes, the backyard is a white canvas. You can paint it any way you choose. The only limit is your imagination — and your weekends.

For my dad, that canvas became a garden. Half the backyard given over to growing things. He would go out in the morning and again in the evening to tend to it. Some days he did nothing at all. He used to say he was talking to his garden. It gave him peace. Later in life he scaled back the garden and built a porch and deck and added a pool. That became his peace too. Same man, same backyard, different season of life.

My colleague Eric Scott has built a genuine paradise in his backyard — his famous Tiki Bar centerpiece, the whole thing a testament to vision and patience and the satisfaction of building something with your own hands. He is rightfully proud of it.

My neighbor John took a different approach. His backyard tiki bar was not exactly peaceful — it was loud and warm and wonderful. Friends and neighbors gathered there regularly. The keg was always welcoming. Five dollars a visit got you unlimited beer, a swim in the pool and the kind of unhurried conversation that is harder and harder to find. That backyard was a community. John built that.

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What grows when you pay attention

My wife Linda is a gifted gardener and the real reason our yard looks the way it does. Last year, being home through the whole slow progression of the season, I finally paid attention the way she always has.

The daffodils come first. Then the forsythia lights up yellow along the fence. Then the redbud, the wisteria, the lilacs — each one arriving on its own schedule, each one a small announcement that something has shifted. On and on it goes well into summer. If you are moving too fast you miss most of it. Last year I was not moving fast and I did not miss any of it.

We are lucky to have both a deck and a patio. I would sit out there often — sometimes with a drink in hand, sometimes just sitting — thinking that it would be genuinely hard to leave this place we have built together over the years. The work that has gone into it. The memories already made in it. The seasons we have watched come and go from it.

There were moments last year when I thought — this backyard might be the best place I know.

The season has arrived

Whether it is a lawn chair under a tree or an elaborate backyard living room and kitchen — cheers to the spring and summer 2026 backyard season. It has arrived.

As I have gotten older I have learned to appreciate all the subtle changes that bring on the season. The first warm evening when you stay outside past dark without thinking about it. The morning the birds come back and you hear them before you see them. The day the lilacs open and the whole yard smells like something you cannot quite name but have always known.

Hopefully you can find your peace this season — with family and friends, just outside your back door.