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.

Reflection on Chihuly

Chihuly and his atelier of assistant glass-blowing artists have achieved universally accessible art. A walk through his exhibit at the Museum of Fine Arts in Boston is markedly different from a typical gallery opening: EVERYONE looks at the art. Granted, the MFA does not tempt one's attention with wine, cheese and grapes; but still -- the experience of this exhibit is completely collective and completely individual. See, here:

Our first eyefull of blown glass drew
murmurs of astonishment and
satisfaction from everyone.

Here is Roy taking it all in. See his
collection on his Facebook page.

A pillar of fire by night . . .

. . . held these people spellbound.

 

 

 

 

 

 

This chandelier is not the pinata
it appears in this optical illusion.

 

 

 

Chandelier up close. . .

. . . and reflected from below.

A crystal-white chandelier. . .

. . . and its reflection.

 I left the exhibit feeling uplifted and satisfied. Blessing, gratitude, and joy!