Wild Flowers

On a warm June afternoon, my sisters-in-law and I explored a natural treasure, Garden in the Woods in Framingham, Massachusetts. I didn't think of taking pictures until we were nearly through, so I cannot show it to you in its full context.

The cast of characters:
Gaye Prescott, Elaine Gallant, Me (the Shadow in the first two pics).

Elaine and Gaye were thrilled with the array of pitcher plants in the bog garden. Their delight drew my thoughts away from the dappled sunlight long enough to remember the camera in my pocket.

Elaine

Gaye

The Enchanted Setting: The botanical garden of The New England Wildflower Society --  at first glance, an Eastern mixed forest; at the next and every following glance, a magic wood densely packed with myriad wildflowers and shrubs, with the emphasis on those native to New England.

It's about trees, too. This astounding wolf pine,
with its many branchings, indicates this land was
once a farm field.

There was an art exhibit of improvised plant containers scattered throughout the park.

Girl Scouts devised this
repurposing of traffic signs as plant pots.

Many of the exhibits were humorous.
This fire hydrant spouted grass
instead of water.

There's no picture of the following episode: 
We took a side trail along some interconnected babbling brooks and finally found a bridge low enough that our bare feet could reach the cool water. We sat and talked and dabbled and marveled at the blue and silvery green darning needles dancing in the air. Although several parties of walkers crossed our footbridge, and even spoke longingly of the coolness of the brook, no one joined our dabble.

Seeing the sun slant lower, we put our shoes back on and headed for the gate. But the garden had a lot more to show us.

An overview of the lily pond.

The Garden also harbors enchanting fauna.
See this tiny frog, huddled for perfect
camouflage in a tree hole.

We arrived back at the gate, to our surprise well after the garden had closed. A volunteer was sweeping out the shop, but did not chide us for dallying in the garden. He seemed to take it as a matter of course that people would want to come and stay, enjoying not only the flowers but the comfortably rustic benches scattered liberally along the paths.

We had made one swing through the garden shop on our way in, and each had plans to stop there on the way out. "Sorry, closed for today." This shop and the perpetual plant sale are the final enchantment on the theme of "gardens" -- offering nothing like the usual nice gift shop merchandise. I will have to go back another day to get Roy his one-of-a-kind, handmade, glass hummingbird feeder.  Will you come, too?

Chair out, Chair in

In a heroic effort to interest home buyers, the Man of the House sacrificed his beloved but decrepit old recliner. You remember the pic.

Requiem for a chair.

Roy bore up nobly for a month, and that nobility has now been rewarded. Voila a new chair.

The Macy's crew, seeing the camera,
announce the arrival of our new furniture.

Up the steps, like they were
carrying a case of cotton candy.

Can they fit it? Of course. Note the jazzy sneaks.

Where do you want it?

Off with the last of the wrappings.

A Morris-style chair to go with our favorite theme.

Ah-h-h-h-h. Life has its rewards.

[OK, this post does not relate directly to my new theme -- maybe next time? Maybe not!]

A Hummock in the Hammock

It was too hot today to do anything but occupy the hammock and read my grandmother's first novel, The Old Ashburn Place -- or rather, reread it after several years' lapse. Reading Margaret Flint's work draws back into me a strong sense of place and belonging that transcends where I am at any moment, or who I am with, no matter how beloved.

The view of my hammock.

The view from my hammock. Hi, Roy.

And looking up from my hammock.

Openwork hammocks are best enjoyed when placed on a deck or patio. Otherwise, bugs in the grass make the great leap upward for fresh protein. Ouch! Slap! We put this hammock on the brick patio Roy built. Oh, you can move it onto the lawn and still enjoy the experience, if you place a tablecloth or blanket underneath to block the leetle jumpers.

You may notice that the real estate ad on my blog has changed. After a year on the market with no takers, the Wayland, Massachusetts, house is reverting for awhile to simply a home. Cool. There is one final showing Monday, and if that doesn't result in a sale, we are taking the house off our broker's hands. However, if you've been wanting to explore the possibility of living in this beauty spot but have not acted on your wish, just give us a call. And if you are really, really good, we might throw in the hammock for good measure. By the way, the "Hummock" in the title of this blog?  Me.

Trees Magnifique

Walking the familiar neighborhood routes in late May, I find the greening trees newly imposing. Some of them loom overhead, framing our houses in grandeur. Other trees pile crown upon crown up a hillside adding a textured backdrop to the lawns and reminding me of cumulus clouds creating monster fluff as they climb the sky.

First of all, here's our lane.
Do you sense population pressure
in the undergrowth? This season, the bamboo
is attempting to crowd out all other vegetation.

The not quite fully fledged leaves of May
make a lacy reflection on the Sudbury river.

Sunset sky framed in the great trees
along Old Stonebridge Road.

How would you like this green giant in your front yard?

It would feel something like this!

Brunch at the Pru

I live very near the historic Boston Post Road, which originally enabled stagecoaches, carriages, buckboards, horseback riders, and foot travelers to make their way to and from the city.  In fact, I travel along it at least once a week on my rounds. Which brings me to one of the delights of living in "ruralesque" Wayland:  visiting Boston.

Last Sunday Roy sprung a wonderful surprise on me:  after-church brunch in the Prudential Center.

Roy at the Panda Express in the upscale
food court of the Pru. I'd highly recommend
that for a good quality fast food meal.

Years ago when I worked in Boston, the Pru was not such a pleasant place to linger -- stark, bland, and beset by cold winds. But clever architectural remodelling of the main floor has created an enlivening environment for strolling, window shopping, eating, and --- most of all --- people-watching.

Pops-Art entrance to the Prudential Center.

It helps that the buildings that have sprung up around the Pru add visual interest, even humor, to the cityscape.

OK, so it's hard to get the humor of the
tall building in the center with its "fascinator" bonnet
on such a gray day and from such a
close-in angle. Pru on the left, Christian
Science Center tower on the right.

Watching the kaleidoscope of trees, flowers, fountains, and variegated surrounding buildings through the segments of the Pru's new (new to me) glass walls as one wanders among the shops is downright exciting. There's lots of greenery inside the building now, too, as well as inviting places to sit and gab. 

I didn't take enough photos, as I was too busy with the activities listed above, but I hope these shots communicate some of what delighted me.