Tuesday, 17 March 2020
The redbuds are opening! Strange and lovely photo, rather by accident.
I found it like an unusual Sunday afternoon: light traffic, considerable dog-walking, people playing with little kids outdoors, older kids playing on their own (shooting hoops, low-energy skateboarding)—much more than I typically see.
This Ford (aka “Dorf”) is moldering in old age; I can sympathize in this time of ‘rona.
Friday, 13 March 2020
Focusing on local not global, today’s big news was some branch and tree removal. Not big trees, mind you, but smallish shoots and suckers and whatever. Most important were troublesome branches something like twenty feet up, which is more than a ladder task and a weekend chore.
I took this to illustrate the dots of tree pollen, but it became something else. Which is fine. This is the hood of a Mercedes sports car ($$$$)…behind an historic apartment building.
The name of this shrub is unknown to me. On this stretch of street, its scent obscured the fragrant Malus, and some Malus trees offered a scent that had a fungal backnote I didn’t detect yesterday.
Thursday, 12 March 2020
As the unknowns mount, mostly beyond my control, I decided that as I walked I would focus on what I knew in the moment, and make that my stability.
I strolled and opened my awareness of my senses. Sniff. [Sounds hokey…but but but.] Sniff. I discovered I was bathed in wafts of the scent of blooming Malus. Substantial trees and high branches loaded with flowers emitted fragrance that permeated the air.
Lovely. Real.
I found rosemary blooming. I had to be close to get the scent.
Periwinkle aka good ol’ Vinca. Did not kneel down to nose these.
And this azalea was too far for my neck to stretch.
Many pop-culch associations with that phrase. I’m just thinking of the meaning, strictly speaking, and not the myriad ways it has been used. Kinda like focusing on scent while perambulating through a turbulent world.
Tuesday, 10 March 2020
Big news! Our quince is blooming again! [Didn’t it already bloom in…January…yes, the 10th! Wow! Twice already!]
Meanwhile, in a neighbors’ yard: bumper crop of hyacinths. This bed is south-facing, so I would have guessed that it had already peaked, but wrong I am.
And, elsewhere, the breakdown crew is busy on a hollow-core stump. Fungal advancement.
Monday, 9 March 2020
I can almost forget the substantial stock market drops around the world when I petal-gaze.
I also find zen in the quiet of still(ish) waters and bald cypress knees.
However, at the same time I find the water-green worrisome: is an algae bloom coming on?
Sunday, 8 March 2020
This is a very rare sight in our neighborhood. On the street, no less, and not in a driveway. A desperate driver/mechanic?
On the other hand: sun and flowers.
Title refers to a common nickname, albeit not unique, for my ancient Ford van. It was ripped from the vehicle’s taunt/description/jeer/catcall: “It rolls down one hill and c’n’ardly get up the next.” Also: slightly Cockney.
Saturday, 7 March 2020
Returned to the park to work on photography skills—and get a dose of vitamin D, of course. Lovely Malus petal cloud.
Found the heron once again in residence. The Guru summoned all his photo-skills to focus on her/him through the vines and branches.
Soon, the bird had had enough, and flew to a high branch on the artificial island. S/he’s on the left side of the tree, just to the right of center in the image. The ducks are not amused.
Friday, 6 March 2020
You see the frog-baby, and you know we visited the ATL Bot Garden. And: note clear sky and sunshine. [We won’t discuss the accompanying windy conditions.]
Found women (volunteers?) weeding and tidying, and this guy, the only guy outdoors, tree-climbing. We saw three ropes in the area, but only one man, so did one guy (this guy) wrangle three ropes, or did this fellow’s buddies desert him for a late lunch break?
Bulbs are champs.
Hothouse foreigner.
Spines! …in the expanded cactus garden.
Temporary architecture. In Spanish (or the Spanish that I learned in rural México), this is: toldo con sombra.
Thursday, 5 March 2020
Established magnolia trees send up a profusion of suckers under the shelter of their leaves and branches. Dunno what the red machine is; lost leaf blower?
Rumor has it the rain will be gone tomorrow! Yay!
