Photo by Roman.
The Growing
Tag: flora
Colander of Light
Photo by Roman.
This was never a song by The Pentangle, but maybe it should have been a title by The Joy of Cooking. Sigh. Never mind. But there is something about sunlight through a canopy of trees, some quality that has been strained of all threat or malevolence… though perhaps small rodents may beg to differ.
Speculative Weeds…
Photo by Roman.
… waiting to be pollinated by… gold bugs, obviously.
This IS the road…
…to Gormenghast Manor
Not a foolish short cut
But you’re welcome
To stay the night
— Yip
Beach Grass
Photo by Roman.
A Bountiful Autumn?
Photo by Roman.
I love the way the light penetrates the leaves and the shadows cast a flickering story. When it’s windy, it’s hard to stay in focus!
Flora and Her 5 Sisters
I do enjoy pretending a photo is a painting, even though it feels like cheating.
Wallpaper!
Photo by Roman.
Did I ever tell you that once upon a time I worked in a wallpaper warehouse, picking orders and such-like? It was an education of sorts, but those endless rolls of badly printed paper or plastic were maybe the second thing that came to mind with this image, rather: this might make a nice desktop. A bit busy, perhaps…
Here flies the banner…
Photo by Roman.
… of the Frost Queen and Her consort,
the Earl of Autumn.
They say Her Worship is the polar bear’s pajamas. But the Mister, He’s not so much, being Her mister-right-now, not mister-right. It’s a sinister business, if I may beg your pardon, but I predict She’ll be with Winter before long, Whomever that may be, as sure as the world spins.
As delicate as a silhouette against a shade, it draws the eye. Are we voyeurs to witness a leaf slowly shutting down, its life draining away to the greater tree, dreaming a blaze of sun-burnt color? Is this a guilty intimacy or a sacred sharing? Or is it after all only tomorrow is another year?
A drama fruit, a diva fruit, the apple of my eye?
The social gossip of courtiers… we heard it on the grapevine… which way’s the main stem… it’s the happening scene… the carnival crowd, grifters and peasants… in this strange, strange land where even the area codes are alien and beg repeating.
–Yip
City in a Garden
Photos by Roman.
Given my scattered and fragmentary knowledge of botany, I was wondering what to say about these photos.
Well, these are street decorations in my neighborhood, probably paid for by either a special service assessment of local businesses or a tax increment financing district. With perky optimism, one could regard it as a way of taking the city slogan (“urbs in horto“) seriously, even if it’s not quite as dramatic as being it being used as a justification for beating up protestors.
What? Oh, sorry. It’s an old grudge. Younger folks won’t remember that Mayor Richard Daley the Elder issued a report justifying the police riots at the 1968 Democratic Party Convention that was titled “What trees do they plant?”
Good question even if it was beside the point.
Marketing on behalf of local businesses, most especially FIRE (Finance Insurance Real Estate), is probably the gardens’ more germane intent.
Whatever. Even though these little gardens sometimes are ruinous and even though more than a few of the trees they plant hardly survive the year, I’m glad someone makes the effort.
