This is the time of the year when a little linden tree grove near my office building comes into its own, budding with the inconspicuous green blooms that will soon shower the area with its gorgeous perfume. No one gives the linden tree its props, mostly because no one knows that it’s the source of such enchanting fragrance. I also happen to enjoy being one of the only people I know who love the linden tree – like some little secret known only to me, so no one else can ruin it. The last thing I want to see is the linden tree go the way of the Bradford pear – overexposure never helped anyone.
The next few weeks will find these trees in bloom – seek one out and sit beneath its bee-buzzing brilliance – it’s the perfect welcome for summer.
When the burdens of basic life become too much, and in this present moment of world history, it is most decidedly too much, I find it helpful to take a pause and make a cup of tea: for the ritual, for the meditative moment, and for the calming effects of chamomile coziness.
Our Memorial Day weekend in Maine closed with a full day and night of rain, which also made a mess of things on the first part of the ride home. Still, there is something romantic about the rain, and leaning into that aspect of a rainy ride made for a balm on a scary rainy day Monday. You don’t get a double-downer like that all too often, and perhaps that’s the reason for my melancholy of late. We usually get more sun than we’ve had, and maybe that’s contributing to it as well.
When my fifth grade year started at McNulty Elementary School, we had a rainy stretch of a few days when we were cooped up inside, beneath the florescent lights of grade school design, and for some reason the idea of the rain forcing us together indoors felt safe and comforting. When it broke days later, and we were allowed to go outside for recess, I reluctantly joined everyone outside, when I still wanted us to all be together indoors. (Yes, I was a strange child.)
My first trip to London was blessedly rain-free, but for a second excursion there, on my own, it rained for some of the trip, and, having expected it as part of London’s charm, I flipped open an umbrella and went about my business, ducking into pubs when it got heavy, having a cup of tea when it got cold, and waiting it out always seemed to work. There was a cozy romanticism to rain in London, one that I still hold close to my heart.
For several vacations in Ogunquit, it rained for the entire time – and not just showers – heavy, down-pouring rain with driving wind that made any sort of outdoor walk impossible. We had to miss the Marginal Way for a few of those vacations because it simply wasn’t possible – but somehow it was always all right.
Rain is a part of life, and I’m learning to embrace it.
A weekend in Maine has come to a rainy close, and while my mind processes rejoining the working masses, this post is just to mark time with its brilliant begonia blooms. The patio plantings went in a little later than usual, and the cool weather we’ve had hasn’t really inspired them with much confidence, but the plants will catch up when the sun and warmth do. I’m placing my faith in the universe to nudge us along to where we are supposed to be.
The unofficial arrival of summer (though we’re waiting until it’s official in June for our summer reveals) comes with Memorial Day, and we’re off to the races – but first the weekly blog recap for all that you may have unintentionally (ahem) missed…
This is Venus and the moon, playfully skirting each other on a recent early evening following one of those impossibly warm 90-degree days we had before it all turned cold and rainy again. Brief spells of magic, tantalizing glimpses of summer, and prayers for more beauty and charm to come… late spring weaves and works its enchantments like no other season, offering hope and promise for those of us still smarting from winter.
In the spring night, the mind unspools like the whorls of a radial flower – spreading and sending out feelers for warmth and comfort, luring in potential pollinators, and beauty is almost an incidental afterthought. What is Venus whispering to the moon on this evening? Secrets of love and naughtiness perhaps, secrets of wanton desire, of tenuous connections of the sort traced by planets and moons and lost to time and space and distance. The missed cries of orbits uncrossed sound from and for another century, and what would it mean if two orbits ever did in fact cross at the same time? Nobody wants to see the sayings through.
And so the moon whispers back to Venus, and it is something we mortals will never hear – even if we did, we could hardly understand it. We are basic and limited creatures – to Venus and the moon we aren’t even here.
This Dazzler of the Day is casting his spell across the pond in waves of floral glory and bountiful beauty. A floral artist based in London, Hamish Powell is easy on the eyes, and endeavors to bring the natural world into fashion and art. In his own words, “Flowers are my muse and my medium.” His exquisite creations have adorned galleries, fashion events, and advertising campaigns for the likes of Burberry, Diptyque, Loewe, Claridges, YSL and Penhaligons – all the finest that London has to offer. Check out his charming website here.
This azalea grows in downtown Albany, on a little side walkway that most people rarely use, which makes it a favorite thoroughfare of mine. Its colours – that brilliant magenta against a forest of bright chartreuse – make for a combustible combination, one that has thrilled me since I was a child. Here, it sets itself aflame in the more beautiful manner – harbinger of a fiery season to come.
As for spring, there’s still some more of it, so let’s make the most of it while it lasts – it’s been such a lovely journey thus far, and I don’t quite want it to end…
There is a certain segment of people that will always enjoy seeing me in states of distress, duress, and undress. I’ve endeavored to accept this without catering or kowtowing to them.
I’m also digging this glimpse of her bathroom. It’s probably the size of my entire house, and with much better lighting. The rich and famous just live better than the rest of us. Alas…
This year’s Mother’s Day itinerary on Broadway included two new shows and a return to our old stomping ground of the Marriott Marquis. As much as I abhor Times Square, and do I ever hate it, having a homebase there just a block or two from the restaurants and theaters where we were headed makes everything easier, especially when time is of the essence. It’s also nice to have a nearby location to go in-between shows, rather than having to trek out a few enormous blocks that are just slightly less than a subway ride away.
It looked to be a rainy weekend, but we managed to mostly avoid getting wet, even as showers threatened from the very first stage of journey – the train ride down along the Hudson River. Clouds bracketed glimpses of blue sky and peeks of sun, and there were spells of rain the whole ray down. Once we entered Manhattan, the sun came out and it was warmer than the Albany climate we had just left. Our first show was ‘Two Strangers (Carry a Cake Across New York)’ and it was the ideal NY-themed show to christen our weekend back on Broadway. Captivatingly charming, it’s a look at the earliest rumblings of possible love amid the pasts we all carry with us, done in a light-hearted and hilarious way.
The next day we went shopping at Bloomingdales and along Fifth Avenue – and by shopping I mean cologne sampling. I tried many – too many – before settling on a standard I’ve been flirting with for many years – details to come. Rain was scheduled to arrive that afternoon, so we walked back our hotel, stopping for a cafe culture moment outside while the weather was fair. (No, I did not purchase these exquisite shoes.)
Dinner was fortuitously scheduled for The View (the revolving restaurant on top of our hotel) so we didn’t have to brave the weather – a happy circumstance that found us skirting the last remnants of the rainstorm. Atop The View, we spun around slowly, taking in all sides of Manhattan as a dramatic cloudscape paraded before us. Not sure if there’s anything as kitschy as a revolving restaurant, and I loved it all the more for that. (The last time I was in a restaurant that revolved was on a childhood summer vacation with the family in Montreal – Mom recalled that and said that my brother and I had insisted on dining there, which rings true to what a kid would want.)
As dinner passed, and the city swirled beneath us, the clouds departed and a bit of blue sky appeared before turning shades of pink for the sunset. It made for an idyllic walk to the Palace Theatre, where our second show was playing. I hadn’t been to the theater since the last performance of this ‘Sunset Boulevard’ revival – and this was a totally different production.
A visually magnificent feat of theatrical wonder, ‘The Lost Boys’ literally flies, succeeding in its smoky atmosphere of ominously entertaining scenes – a fun romp that will have fans of the original film more than fulfilled. While it didn’t quite move me as much as ‘Two Strangers…’ it’s worth taking in for the effects and ambiance.
Our Mother’s Day tradition concluded for another season – next year will mark the 30th anniversary of our very first Broadway weekend tradition, so we will be going all out for that… stay tuned.
Born all the way up and over in Alaska, Charles Melton has made the perilous journey from male model to actor with deft aplomb and sure footing, something not many models are able to accomplish. With notable roles on ‘Glee’ and ‘American Horror Story’, Melton earned his finest accolades from his role in ‘May December’ – and today he can add Dazzler of the Day to his impressive resume.
I thought I could – the same way I contained a wild sweet pea (which I still have under somewhat stringent control) but mint is a different animal entirely, with its deceptive runners that creep wherever it senses water, sprouting up many feet from its source, and then splitting off into numerous other channels.
Much of this lilac spring has been fantasy and head-living. The the outside world refused to cooperate weather-wise, when we were struck down with sickness, when one simply felt icky and drab with dampened spirits, I’d retreat to the beautiful yarns running through my mind, a place that has never failed to elicit escape and wonder and enchantment in the darkest of days.
For now, when rain is in the forecast and summer seemingly backs away from its approach, a list of summer starts to remind us how life in the sunny season may once again come to pass…
When it comes to brownies, are you a center-lover or an edge-eater? I’m a corner fan myself… and it looks like this brownie baking tray is just for those of us who like all the edges we can get.
