It's Kinda Spring (I Guess)

Spring came in a strange way this year.  First, we had a very mild winter, a welcomed change after last year's record snowfall totals.  Then, we had some mild weather in early March, only to get cooler by the end of the month.

April started off with promise, but within the first week we had a snowfall.  Anything that was blossoming got confused.  The forsythia was starting to come out when the snows and frozen weather stunted their blossoming.  After a few weeks of stunted growth, the yellow flowers withered and died off.  Same with the magnolias.  Normally, by mid-April, much of Back Bay Boston would be splendid with the soft pink and white flowers.

Now we are seeing the full blossoming of spring, but the weather is still cooler than it should be.  But the tulips have been out.  The dogwoods and other flowering  trees are beginning to bloom.  All the trees are leafing out, too.  It's Kinda Spring, I guess.

A Mayor for the People

This weekend, Boston is remembering the passing of its longest serving mayor, Thomas Menino. He served for over 20 years, from 1993 to 2014.  He started out in local politics as a City Councilor.  When Major Ray Flynn was offered the post of Ambassador to the Vatican, Tom Menino became Acting Mayor.  Beginning in 1993, he won and unprecedented five elections for mayor.

He was always a low-key guy. It was never "all about him" but more all about the city. He knew it well, the neighborhoods, the people, the diversity.  

When he saw a need, he did something.  He saw young people with nothing to do during the summer.  So, he started a camp for any kid from the city, for the affordable price of $5/week.  When the Morning Star Baptist congregation in Mattapan could not get a loan to build a new church, he stepped in and talked a bank into making the loan.  On Sundays, parishioners triple-park along Blue Hill Avenue to attend the largest church on what some call the "Avenue of God" for its numerous places of worship, small and large.

He also presided over a time of great investment and development in the city.  Here, he did wield the power to be the deciding vote to approve or deny a project.  The city continued to flourish.

While development continued downtown, the demographics of the neighborhoods were changing.  For the first time, the Boston became a majority minority city.  But, he was a major for all the people.  What was most telling was the outpouring of praise for their former major from leaders of the minority communities.  On Thursday Nov. 30th, after the mayor's passing hit the news, the evening service at Morning Star Baptist Church became a memorial service for the major. He truly served all the people.

He was not always the smoothest public speaker.  Nicknamed "Mumbles," sometimes you weren't quite 100% sure what he just said, I recall hearing him speak at the funeral of the late Mayor Kevin White, and having to listen very carefully!

His heart was always with Boston. After the marathon bombing, he left his hospital bed to speak to the city, to give all strength and hope. 

But, all in all, I think his legacy will be that of a mayor of the whole city.  He was a good and faithful public servant. Unfortunately, he had so little time to enjoy life after office. May he rest in peace.

Our Garden, so far this spring

Spring is a season of changes, little changes week by week.  From the bare earth, buds come forth.  The early spring flowers arrive.

Eventually, the bushes and trees bud and then leaf out, first in the palest of delicate greens, and then becoming the more mature greens they will display all summer.

The March flowers in the front planter

Tending the garden is one of my ways to stay in tune with the seasons, particularly in spring:  the jonquils in March into April, the roses in May and June, the Mayflowers in June, the day lilies in July.  I love to measure the passing of time by the changes in nature, even here in the city.

Here's a quick tour of our little garden this spring.

A bed of impatiens

The rhododendrons in bloom in late May 

The June roses blooming in late May.

The window boxes hanging out on the patio while the building is painted.

Taking a Moment

The joy of blogging, I had discovered, was in taking the time to take in life. Whether taking in the visual or aural texture of one’s surroundings, or the intellectual implications of a thought, the process always required me to take time, take in all in, think about it, and put it in words.

I’ve missed that experience over the last year. Being a time of transition, I found the changes themselves occupied my time and kept away the quiet moments, the moments of reflection on even just one thought.

So, this evening, as I left the Cambridge Library, I took a moment. In the quiet warmth of a late afternoon sun in the waning days of summer, I sat on a bench outside. I just let the gentle warmth touch me. I let the relative quiet settle me. My cell phone battery almost dead, I was freed from the usual distractions, and just took in the view: the architecture of the library extension, the light brown of a wood porch on a triple-decker on Ellery Street.

So wonderful, taking a moment.

My Little Garden, the 2010 Edition

Living in the city, there's not much space for anything. But, we have a tiny little patio behind our home and I can do some gardening around the patio. I love getting my hands in the soil and planting my flowers and vegetables. And I enjoy watching everthing grow and make this little patio in the city as my little pretty oasis. For comparison, see my 2009 garden and my 2008 garden.

One Mom's Alternative to the Minivan!

This mom and her customized bicycle caught my eye during the spring city bike ride. Every year here in Cambridge we have a city bike ride in May as part of Bike Week. It's a great chance for riders of all abilities to enjoy a ride around the city.

"One less minivan" was the rear plate on this mom's bike. It featured two seats suitable for young children (although it appeared only one child was riding today) The bike also have attachments for bags, water bottles, and other items. Plus headlights and rear lights.

She's saving on the cost of gas, has less problems finding parking spaces, and is not polluting with car fumes. Now, not every mom can ditch her minivan or SUV and take to the road with a multi-passenger bicycle. But, still, I had to admire this mom and her alternative to the minivan!

Other Spring Thoughts

Spring is here at last, and first love is the budding and flowering that signals rebirth. Recently, I was feeling a little sad that things were progressing so fast at times I could not take it all in. But then I realized another aspect of spring: the rebirth is unbounded.

Listen to Stravinsky's Rite of Spring - the music approaches a frenzy at time, almost out of control. Spring is a primative season and cannot be tamed!

Spring is the season of love, especially young love. I remember a spring walk through the Riverway park, talking and enjoying each other's company.... Even as I'm many years older now, it's a season that re-energizes me to get outside and walk and ride my bicycle and feel the warmth of the sun.

Speaking of love, I will also have a special place in my heart for my hometown of New York City. There's no place like it. I was there last weekend for the briefest of stays (about 5 hours) for a family gathering, but on a hotel rooftop, I could watch the sun set over the Hudson River and dusk arrive as the skyline lit up.

But I still haven't seen my favorite New York City park, the High Line Park built on the old railroad trestle down the west side of Manhattan. (Check out my blog post from last spring on this wonderful reuse of an industrial structucture.) Well, next year will be the first with an "empty nest" so a weekend in Manhattan (with a visit to the High Line) may be possible!

Photo below is from http://www.thehighline.org/.

“…the music for the ceremony, I know you said you’re not very traditional….”

Lunchtime, I'm taking a walk through the park and overhear somehting:

“…the music for the ceremony, I know you said you’re not very traditional….”

That’s all I heard. A mere snippet of a conversation. Not even a complete sentence. A woman, maybe 30-ish sitting on a bench in the park at noon, talking on her cell phone as I walked by.

So many half conversations we hear with people on cell phones, walking near us or on the bus or train; many annoying half conversations. But this was different. This one truly intrigued me!

My mind was racing to fill in all the other details.

Clearly, this was a wedding, no? Ceremony and music and not traditional – what else could it be?

But who was this woman on the bench? Was she the wedding planner? Or a curious friend? Or the music director at the church where the wedding would take place? Clearly, she was not just interested but had a real need to know about the music. I could tell this from the tone of her voice.

And whom was she talking to? Probably, the bride-to-be, I would guess. Or maybe both of them were on the call. But, again from the tone of the woman on the park bench, it sounded to me like there was only one person on the other end of the call. It sounded very person-to-person.

So, here we have wedding planner or someone involved in the ceremony talking to the bride-to-be. It’s March, so probably the wedding is a couple of months away, maybe May or June. But the bride is not “very traditional” so what must she be like? Is she a “free spirit” who wants a very different style of ceremony, maybe very simple, maybe more intimate in the setting. Maybe on a few dozen guests? Anyway, it’s probably not in a big church with hundreds in attendance. Maybe it’s in a small chapel, or in a small room off the reception hall, or outside in a garden.

An what about the dress? Not too traditional, hmmmm. No long trains. Maybe something simple yet elegant. Maybe not pure white, but an off white. Probably no large bridal party either, maybe only the Maid of Honor and Best Man. Maybe they walk in together and skip the traditional giving away of the bride.

And the music. Definitely not a big pipe organ with "Here Comes the Bridge" or other traditional wedding marches. Maybe sometime simple, yet romantic. A couple of tunes played on a violin.

So what do have hear?

• I think a wedding in June.
• Simple, but elegant gown.
• Small wedding, maybe 40 or 50 guests, tops. Just the couple and their witnesses.
• A brief ceremony with simple entrance and recessional music, a couple of romantic melodies played on violin.
• And then to the reception.
  
  

I do wish them well. I almost feel I know something about them, even though all I heard was a snippet of a conversation, walking through the park at lunchtime in March.

Almost Spring!

After a weekend of drenching rain, the sun came out and so the signs of spring. Only 5 days to go to my favorite season.

For me, spring is the season of hope: little buds daring to pop up above the ground litter and add color to the gray and brown bleakness. Life reborn.

Below: It's only March, but the trees look like they're almost ready to leaf out.

Below: A couple of views of the crocuses in the garden next door, now in full bloom!


Below: Look at how much my little jonquils have grown since my last post!

A Beautiful Day in March

Finally, a beautiful weekend in March! And the signs of spring are multiplying, even if spring is officially still 2 weeks away.

This morning, the birds were singing. I found a few crocuses shyly blooming in the yard next door. Buds are appearing on trees, and my little baby buds are turning into juvenile jonquils and daffodils. Before the month is over, a bed of sunny yellow flowers will brighten the garden in front of my home.

It got over 50 degrees today, so I got out my flip flops and walked around in them all day. So nice to feel the warmth of the sun on my feet for the first time in 5 months!

Below, buds are appearing in the trees.

It's two weeks since my Signs of Spring post. Below you can see how much they've grown.

Beautiful day on the Charles River. Even a couple of rowers in shells were spotted.


Here's a blowup of the rowers.

Signs of Spring!

My little garden is budding! It may be the middle of February and our groundhog friend says we have another 4 weeks of winter, the first signs of spring are popping the little green heads up out of the browness of dead leaves and the remains of last year's annuals.

Finally, a day that feels a little bit warm! For weeks (months) I have to bundle up with a wool hat, scarf, warm coat and gloves just to go outside. But today, with no wind and a sun that's feeling "almost springlike" I could throw off the hat, scarf and gloves and do a little work in the garden. After I removed some of the leaf litter, there were the little green buds.

Sometime in the middle to end of March, todays' little buds will become a sunny yellow bed of jonquils (March's birth flower - see their happy faces in the photo on the right and my post from last year) and daffodils are popping up. I can't wait, as I love spring!

Fall in My Favorite Park

Boston's Public Garden is near my office, so I stroll there often. Sometimes at lunch, sometimes walking to the subway at the end of the day. The park is beautiful in all seasons, but the fall foliage paints the park with a particularly stricking palate of colors.

Here's a sampling of my photos of fall in the Public Garden. For more photos, check out my blog Urban Vistas.

Saving My Garden

This year, the killing frost is late. Last year it arrived for El Día de los Muertos (Nov. 2). This year, it was unseasonably warm. But as the week progressed, the temperatures plummeted and some frost was visible yesterday morning. So, even though today is sunny and warm, it was time to save what I can from the garden.

I repotted the geraniums which I keep inside over the winter. I also brought in the parsley, one of the few plants that did well during our short, wet and cool summer.

On the right, that’s most of the cherry tomato harvest below: 9 green tomatoes. There was one ripe tomato we had around Labor Day, and one rotted on the vine before ripening. Oh, well, everyone tells me it was a bad year for tomatoes, and there’s always next year.

Below: my ferocious beast stalking in the wilds of the garden.