Wisteria Viewing

John called from the lower place where he'd been mowing and proposed that we take a bottle of bubbly down to the pond and enjoy a pre-supper bit of wisteria appreciation.

The big vine hadn't bloomed at its normal time, and we'd feared it was dead. Halleluiah, it was just resting!

The fragrance of the blooms is sweet and paired with the smell of new-mown grass, quite wonderful. 

We sat and sniffed and sipped and watched a snapping turtle surface then sink. There were dragonflies and bass to watch . . .

And this annoyed little lady who has a nest in the rafters of the little pond house and didn't appreciate our presence.

A brief shower danced over the pond's surface, tracing rhythmic pockmarks on the water.

An hour well-spent.

 

May Day

Late Tuesday afternoon was so beautiful and such a perfect temperature that John and I took a chilled bottle of white wine down to the pond to enjoy the wisteria's last shout.

It was around five and the light had that luminescent 'Golden Hour' quality.

Though the blossoms were fading, the wisteria's fragrance was strong, enveloping us in a sweet cloud.

The long shadows of a golden afternoon.

As I typed the title of the post, I thought of how MAYDAY is a recognized cry of distress (from the French m'aidez - help me.) And I thought, not for the first time, how this pandemic could be seen as a cry for help from the earth--as mankind's pollution is increasingly shut down, the earth begins to recover.

And how nice it would be if we learn something from this timeout--the importance of the unseen workers we all depend on, the inequalities inherent in our political system, what things in our lives are necessary and what is excess . . . and the simple fact that we're all in this together. 

Evening Light

Clara and Mr. Tiffany

Clara and Mr. Tiffany is another terrific read from Susan Vreeland. Vreeland does a wonderful job of giving lots of information about a historical period and the making of stained glass windows and lamps, all the while telling a compelling story. 

I recommended this book to some folks in my writing class who were guilty of the dreaded info dump syndrome. It's not easy to work lots of factual information into a story but Vreeland accomplishes the task seamlessly.  

 

Apart from being a very good story, Clara and Mr. Tiffany aroused in me a lust for a Tiffany reproduction wisteria lamp.  We already have a dragonfly one and it was quite modestly priced. 

So I went looking . . . and found some kind of not-very-good ones and then this beauty above. And only $120 dollars!  Not inconsiderable but for such a gorgeous piece of work... and how beautiful it would be on the marble-topped chest in our bedroom. . .

Then I looked again. The lamp actually cost $7,200. 

 Gasp. 

 The $120 was for shipping . . .

Time to go down to the pond and enjoy the real wisteria. . .