Sunday, August 9, 2020

Zucchini House

It's not uncommon to see vegetables growing in front yards, especially if that's the sunny side of the house. But I have never seen a yard devoted only to zucchini, edge to edge, from front sidewalk all the way up to the house. What plans the owner must have, from fiori di zucca to ratatouille, baked, grilled, fried, transformed into boats, cut into zoodles, hidden in zucchini bread. The plants look so healthy. How will this optimistic gardener keep up? If, later in the summer, neighbors find zucchini left on their porches, there will be no doubt where it came from.

Sunday, August 2, 2020

Gate And Arbor


An arbor is an old-fashioned structure, something you'd expect to find leading to a cozy cottage. This one, with its shady vines and bright stand of black-eyed susans, looks suitably homey and inviting. It makes me want to open the gate and step into the yard. An arbor has always been on my Wish List, along with climbing roses. Roses to drape themselves across that arbor, some day.

Sunday, July 26, 2020

Christmas In July

I found them, unused and half-forgotten, towards the bottom of a ludicrously tall basket. They were under and between layers of heavy and oddly shaped item---a dangerous parfait for such a fragile ingredient. For more than a moment, I considered taking them home. No...perhaps someone else in the family might want them. If not, they will go off to be discovered, adopted and treasured by someone else. This is the dilemma faced by those who are tasked with clearing out a home that is no longer the family home.

Sunday, July 19, 2020

No Ice Cream

On the very cold day when I took this photo, my fingers could barely work the camera. The signs seemed unnecessary, even ironic, thanks to the blast of arctic air swirling around me. That was before we had to worry about whether the ice cream truck patrons are wearing masks as they stand in line, properly distanced, waiting for a Nutty Buddy or Creamsicle. What a different world it was then. Blocking the steps of a church while eating ice cream might be rude or thoughtless. Now it could be dangerous.

Sunday, July 12, 2020

Green Tunnel

What do you do when the curtain of trailing leaves from your willow tree grows out over the sidewalk? Rather than cut back the entire tree, you can give it a "haircut" and shape it into a green tunnel. I like to linger for a minute or two, enjoying the shade, listening to the soft rustle of the remaining chains of leaves as they sway in the breeze. It feels safe and magical and a few degrees cooler.

Sunday, July 5, 2020

Belief Plus Doubt

When museums open again, I have many artworks to revisit. At the Hirshhorn Museum, a ride down the elevator to the lower level will leave me surrounded by gigantic letters on every surface. For years, Barbara Kruger's art has included words. Her collages have given way to installations of statements and questions. And you could say, at least one arithmetic question. It seems especially pertinent at this moment: Belief plus Doubt equals Sanity.

Sunday, June 28, 2020

No Stopping, No Parking

On a very short street, there is a sign that the weeds have decided is unnecessary. A little over a year ago, access to a popular walking and biking path opened up just steps from here, hence the sign. But the weeds have other ideas. The sign in on their territory and will soon be swallowed up, only to appear when winter comes and the greenery temporarily retreats.