A Pile of Petals

A Pile of Petals

Comments 0 Comment

The climbing rose has come into its own, has come into and gone past it, if you want to know the truth. But it hung in there long enough for me to see it, even after I had the audacity to spend 10 days away during its peak blooming period. 

I attribute the rose’s survivability to scant rain and wind — and maybe, even to profusion: with so many buds to bloom, the process takes time.

Now comes the season of deconstruction, of light pink petals falling gently to the deck, the railing, the glass-topped table, even into the dregs of my morning tea. 

I keep a pile of petals beside me as I work. From time to time, I run my fingers through them and feel their velvety softness.

(The climbing rose seen from above and the pile of petals I kept beside me as I work.)


That Kind of Year

That Kind of Year

Comments 0 Comment

A birthday of note this year, but aren’t they all? Isn’t every one of them precious proof that we live another day?

This morning I woke up to greetings from family and friends, dear ones I’ve known for decades. What richness! What a privilege to reach this, “the furthest exploratory tip of this my present bewildering age,” in the words of Annie Dillard. Even if it’s bewildering, maybe even because it’s bewildering.

I think of Kathy, Cathy and Gerry, good friends taken too soon. With their lives and the lives of all the people I love in mind, gratitude is the only emotion allowed on this day. But truth to tell, I would probably be feeling it anyway. It’s that kind of morning, that kind of month, that kind of year. 

Bird Song

Bird Song

Comments 0 Comment

It’s a sunny afternoon on the deck as hummingbirds buzz the feeders, sparrows chirp and cardinals peep. In the distance, I hear a hawk cry and a bluebird squawk.  

Turns out, all this bird listening is good for my mental health, according to two different studies published in Scientific Reports, summarized in a Washington Post article published today. 

I’m not surprised. Hearing birdsong is one of the reasons I love walking and being outside in general. Turns out I’m not alone. Researchers asked 1,300 participants to answer questions about their environment and well-being through an app called Urban Mind. They found a strong correlation between hearing or seeing birds and a positive state of mind. Another study found that listening to six-minute audio clips of birdsong reduced anxiety and depression. 

According to this, I should always be bopping around with a smile on my face because in addition to hearing outside birds, I also hear inside ones, Alfie and Toby, the parakeets who grace our house with their chatter and whose racket often prompts callers to ask, “Do you have birds?” 

Yes, I always say, yes, I do, and they’re wonderful. 

(Alfie and the late, great Bart.)

Memorial Day Movie

Memorial Day Movie

Comments 0 Comment

I briefly tried watching the National Memorial Day concert last evening before switching to the Memorial Day Marathon on Turner Classic Movies, where I found a film I’d never heard of called “Hell to Eternity.”

This 1960 movie tells the true story of Guy Gabaldon, a Marine who was raised by a Japanese family and who singlehandedly and peacefully took 1,500 prisoners on Saipan, aided by the Japanese language he learned as a child. 

It’s a rare film that depicts the incarceration of Japanese Americans in internment camps during the war and features Japanese actors playing Japanese characters. Also, while there are plenty of combat scenes, the movie ultimately glorifies not the fighting but our common humanity. 

Not a bad way to see in Memorial Day 2023. 

(From left, actor Jeffrey Hunter, the real Guy Gabaldon, and actor David Janssen from the set of the film “Hell to Eternity,” courtesy TCM.)

On the Fence

On the Fence

Comments 0 Comment

A family in the Phinney Ridge neighborhood of Seattle has come up with a whimsical way to depict the immensity of space: they’ve turned their wooden fence into the solar system. 

On these planks you’ll see the sun, Mercury, Venus, Mars and Earth plus our moon. Far enough down the block that my phone camera couldn’t capture them in one shot are Jupiter, Saturn, Uranus and Neptune. 

A final panel reads “Where is Pluto? Pluto would be across our neighbor’s driveway,” followed by a discussion of Pluto’s status as dwarf planet, a fact about which some scientists are “on the fence.” 😊

It’s not the sort of thing I’m used to seeing on my neighborhood walks. But isn’t that point of travel — to take us away and shake us up and help us see our world, even our universe, with fresh eyes? 

Night Flight

Night Flight

Comments 0 Comment

We left Seattle for Virginia at an hour I consider normal for overseas flights, that is, almost midnight. But then we had almost as far to go, give or take a few hundred miles

Instead of crossing an ocean, we traversed a continent. In the dark of night we flew over cities and villages, swamps and high deserts. In a darkened cabin, we covered the distance of this broad land. 

And now, after a few hours of catch-up sleep, I’m sitting where I so often do, at a desk overlooking a green yard, my slice of this planet: home. 

Ballard Locks

Ballard Locks

Comments 0 Comment

In Seattle, you can’t escape the water, nor would you want to. Lake and sound, salt water and fresh, creek and marsh. One of the most fascinating water experiences in the city is to be found at the Ballard Locks, where boats pass from Puget Sound to Lake Union and Lake Washington (or vice versa). 

Locks are one of those technologies of which I have a theoretical understanding but had never seen in action until the other day.The Ballard Locks, I learned, carry more boat traffic than any other locks in the country, so there’s a good chance you’ll see a ship pass through this engineering marvel. 

To witness a craft at eye level and then, only a few minutes later, see it 25 feet lower … well, let’s just say it reminds me, once again, of the power of showing over telling. 

Unconventional

Unconventional

Comments 0 Comment

When I’m here in this western city, I notice the eccentricities, the differences, how the houses assert their individuality. 

Take the Coleman House, for instance. Owned by psychiatrist, author and gardener Brian Coleman, the place is a Victorian dream, cast of warm rich colors with whimsical touches — an owl, a sunflower, a turret with the Latin phrase quo amplius eo amplius (“more beyond plenty”) — and set amidst a garden that changes with the seasons.

An article in the Seattle Times tells me that this house is featured in Private Gardens of the Pacific Northwest, edited by … Brian Coleman, who does not reveal in the book that the house is his own. 

I know the houses of my northern Virginia suburb can’t be as unconventional as this one. But they could try a little harder, couldn’t they?

 

Magnificent Forest

Magnificent Forest

Comments 0 Comment

“You are entering a fragile, ancient forest,” the sign read. “Please stay on the trail.” So we entered the woods with reverence, walked quietly along the path, and guessed the age of the towering trees. 

To be old growth, a forest must contain trees more than 250 years old. Seattle’s Seward Park has them, though many of its specimens are “only” in the 200-year range.  But the Western Hemlocks are dying, the sword fern too.

How to protect them, to understand and prevent their demise? How to keep this “Magnificent Forest,” as it’s called, as dark, mysterious and magical as it is now? Researchers are working on it. And yesterday, we did our part: we looked, we marveled, we stayed on the trail.