Sunday, December 15, 2024

Roadside Picnic Table


 On a chilly, bright day, we stopped in the middle of nowhere to eat lunch. The picnic table threatened a host of hazards including splinters and lead poisoning. Its many-layered surface was a victim of baking summers and winter winds sweeping across the plains. Somehow the painted concrete blocks looked years younger, a geometric framework for the blue sky. Together they illustrated the contrast between chaos and order, just off the side of the road.

Sunday, December 8, 2024

Three Young Girls


 In a dark room  in the Denver Art Museum, three sisters stand, looking straight ahead. They are mesmerizing in their identical dresses. The style of the lace, with stand up collars and cuffs folding back over the sleeve are clues indicating that they posed for this portrait sometime in the early 1600s. Historians have concluded that about 1610 is a more accurate date because the lace is yellow, a short-lived fashion that died out quickly. Who are these girls? We know they are from a wealthy family but neither their names nor the name of the artist is documented. Did they all grow up and have children of their own? Four hundred years later, they look out but do not tell.

Sunday, December 1, 2024

Bridge To Kentucky


 Where there are bodies of water to be crossed, there are bridges: ancient bridges hewn from stones, precarious wooden bridges high over mountain gorges, elaborate iron bridges with decorative details. Even the most simplified utilitarian bridge can be beautiful, especially if its bare-bones structure overlays a dramatic sky. This one, near Louisville, welcomed us to the sixth of eleven states as we were on our way home.

Sunday, November 24, 2024

Museum Stickers


 There is an open air lot near the Denver Art Museum. From a distance, all the poles skirting the lot look like they have been festively painted. A closer look reveals that they have become a three dimensional substrate for the sticker each visitor wears while in the museum. As more and more departing visitors added their stickers, these poles have become an impromptu form of public art.

Sunday, November 10, 2024

Ginkgo Gold

On a sunny afternoon, the leaves of a ginkgo take on a ravishing range of golden tones. The only tree with truly fan shaped leaves, they flutter and twist but, at the moment, hold fast to their branches. When the time comes, all those little yellow fans seem to come to a remarkable agreement.  It’s not unusual to pass a gold-crowned tree one morning and then, within a day or two, discover those leaves forming a bright carpet under the nearly-bare tree. Ginkgos can be unusually decisive.

 

Sunday, November 3, 2024

Chrysanthemums


 This is the time when tired gardens need a boost. Late-blooming chrysanthemums have been lurking under and behind the summer flowers for some time. They now have buds that are opening. I am not a fan of the too-sturdy and stiff varieties that are sold in pots, fully blooming. Instead, give me these daisy-like chrysanthemums. They fit in nicely with the grasses and remaining seed heads in gardens meant to sustain the birds and insects. Best of all, they come in whole range of colors, yellow, pink, orange and russet, echoing the changing leaves overhead.

Sunday, October 27, 2024

Not Ready For Halloween Yet


 It takes a lot longer than you might anticipate to set up a really elaborate holiday display. The zombies have taken their position by the stairs but the gravestones are waiting to be set up. One more evil clown is waiting to join the twenty or so who lurk in the yard. How big of a storage unit do you need to safely store all this creepy chaos? A return trip before Halloween is a must. I want to see where the glittery silver skeleton goes.