things that work
my son is increasingly fascinated by how fashion works, from conceptual musings about what becomes popular and why, to questions about how the shoulder of a shirt acquires its particular shape. i said, joe. there are things that have worked forever. one of them is a french curve. one of those old wooden drafting tools that helps to draw just exactly the right arc. these juvenile maidenhair ferns look as if they were designed by french curves. or, more likely, they look as if they were the inspiration behind the first prototype of a french curve.
immature maidenhair fern fronds (Adiantum)
random acts of gratuitous kindness
our friend paul stopped by on his way home from wisconsin. our house is a little out of his way, and. he didn’t really have any news for us. except that the wild leeks were up in the woods around his cabin. and he had picked a few. and a few extra for us. “got a class to teach,” he said, as he pulled his truck door shut. and his tail lights glowed through a haze of kicked up dust, all the way down our driveway
wild ramps (Allium tricoccum)
the size of these magnolia blossoms remind me dirigibles. improbable, clumsy, ponderously graceful.
magnolia blossom buds
spring in my back yard is a party and it looks as if this is my invitation.
the other signs of spring
my husband an i own two rental properties in minneapolis. they are in the neighborhood we lived in for twenty years. every year, about this time we will get the polite, yet inevitable, tenant inquiry “so, when does dave start cutting the grass? it’s kind of needs it.” today was that day. so, in honor of that annual tradition and spring right of passage, i present to you un-mowed spring grass.
spring grass shoots