And while we were wasting our lives there , here was this dear place with dandelions up to the very door , all the paths grass-grown and completely effaced efface , in winter so lonely , with nobody but the north wind taking the least notice of it , and in May -- in all those five lovely Mays -- no one to look at the wonderful bird-cherries and still more wonderful masses of lilacs , everything glowing and blowing , the virginia creeper madder every year , until at last , in October , the very roof was wreathed with blood-red tresses , the owls and the squirrels and all the blessed little birds reigning supreme , and not a living creature ever entering the empty house except the snakes , which got into the habit during those silent years of wriggling up the south wall into the rooms on that side whenever the old housekeeper opened the windows .