Spiderwebs In The Morning

 A cool morning finally brought a change from our hot, dry summer. Weighed down with droplets of dew, the webs of all the neighborhood spiders were no longer inconspicuous. Each web, meant to ensnare, had become a jeweled hammock, sagging under the weight of those glistening beads. No small moth or fly could help but notice such fancy, glistening structures. The spiders would have to wait for their dinner. 

Bee and Passion Flower

 A passion flower vine has crept along a chain link fence, completely upholstering the fence with leaves, buds and now flowers. You can smell the scent from a half block away. One particular type of big, slow bumble bee has found the vine. They ignore me and work each flower, their backs covered in bright pollen. Two or even three bees can share each flower for a short while, never bothering with territorial squabbles. They have a job to do and there are more than enough of those heavenly flowers to go around.

Wall Plaque, Marylebone, London

 Wandering the streets of a city is endlessly entertaining. Walk down a side street and you may discover a seemingly random bit of ornamentation remaining from when a building was first erected. Set into a brick wall, this potted apple tree has all the design hallmarks of the years when Oscar Wilde was still tossing off bon mots. I wonder if it is terra cotta and whether, under all that tasteful fog gray paint, there might be original now-unfashionably-bright colors. No matter---it survives. In its current monochrome, we can still enjoy the simplified dimensionality of this remaining example of late Victorian design.

Little White Stars

 The ferny-leaved stems grew all summer until they covered the fence in a delicate green blanket. Then one day, small stars began to open, a few here and there. They don’t form clusters. Instead, they scatter themselves, becoming daytime stars in a green sky. They are not showy, just a small interruption in that swath of green. Just enough to add punctuation to this leafy wall. 

Fair Ride At Night

 All over the country, it's fair time. Our little local fair has no livestock, not even the racing piglets that were always so popular. So the main draws are the carnival-type rides. When the sun goes down, even a small county fair takes on a magical air. I am happy to just stand in the midst of all the blinking lights and enjoy the changing colors and patterns. But please, don’t try to get me on anything that swings way up in the air. Once a chicken, always a chicken.

Summer Calico Sky

People get up early to see the sun rise. They gather in special places to watch sunsets.  Calico skies are different. You can't necessarily plan ahead for one, but on certain lucky days, there it is, an inestimable yardage of cerulean blue, patterned in white from horizon to horizon. If you are lucky, all this blue will be anchored by a garden. If such a sky appears, stay outside a while and enjoy it.

 

Cabbage

Cabbages are sturdy, unglamorous vegetables. They are usually destined to become the kinds of dishes cooked by grandmothers rather than haute cuisine chefs. They can be as big as a basketball, with a petticoat of capacious outer leaves.  The inner leaves hug the head, each one ending in a delicate ruffle, fancy as the lacy edges of Marie Antoinette's gowns. The rippled, ruffly finish that we can achieve with a serger is known as a "lettuce edge" but I propose that it should actually be called a "cabbage edge."