Graffiti And A Green Chair
The walking path runs past an unoccupied building. I admired the way the weeds, chair and colors of the graffiti complemented each other--a study in greens. Whose chair is this? How often does someone sit here? Did they specifically choose the spot with the graffiti? The view is not beautiful or remarkable in any way, but it must be a welcome temporary retreat for someone.
Crazy Bricks
The facade of ths building made me do a double-take. We went around the block so I could walk down the street and take a photo. Have you ever seen bricks arranged like this? Shall we call it slightly organized chaos? There is something about it that reminds me of crazy quilts, even down to the colors. The roof is kind of wacky too. I just love it.
Three Pincushions
The tomato pincushion is a sewing icon. Pincushions in a vast range of shapes became a popular item during Victorian times, made as special gifts or donations to bazaars. Pins used to be so precious that they were kept in little boxes. "Pyn pillows" eventually became pincushions. Why has the tomato, with it’s tag-along strawberry emery for sharpening the pins, endured? The tomato was a good luck symbol, set on the mantel of a new home. It's a fairly easy shape to make. The green yarn dividing it into wedges means that machine or hand needles in varying sizes can be parked in designated sections. I found this dusty trio languishing next to a neglected sewing machine. The hodgepodge of safety pins, rusty needles and American flags reveals that their owner was neither organized nor a dedicated seamstress. But the pincushions still wait, ready to be used.
Tall Sunflowers
An article in the newspaper described a new variety of sunflower that blooms more than once a season. It grows less than three feet high, more like bush. Ask any child to describe a sunflower and, along with the big brown and yellow blooms, the plant's height is the feature they remember. Stand there and marvel at the sturdy stems, the whorls of ripening seeds, the sunny heads nodding several feet above your head. Sunflowers are worth a detour for a late summer experience that will make you feel like a child.
Naranjilla Leaf
My camera’s lens has focused on the naranjilla before. It's an annual summer resident in the Smithsonian's Mary Livingston Ripley Garden. Native to Ecuador, Peru and Columbia, the big spiny leaves startle garden visitors, when they notice it growing happily among the more domesticated plants. I peeked underneath to see if there were any fruits setting and was met with an entirely different view. For a moment, I was under my own little green umbrella, with the last of the summer’s sun and heat filtered and dispersed all around me.