London flower market

I slipped off for a long weekend in London.

The Columbia Road Flower Market stole my heart.

A narrow charming street in London's East End

packed with flowers.

The call of "Two for a fiver" and "Three for a tenner"

echoing down the street

                                                        like a choir in a cathedral of flowers.

I agonized over what to buy, to brighten my hotel room,

and settled on purple stock, yellow freesias, and thistles.

Three for a tenner.

Great people watching too.

The sight of all those flowers made me giddy, 

but watching the interactions, choices, conversations,

listening to the wonderful range of accents

made it that much better.

 One day I'd like to tour England's gardens, flowers shop and markets.

Is it surprising that in a city of great historic sights and museums

one of my favorite things is the flower market?

What sorts of thing light you up when you travel?

weeding, reading, and wildflowers

  Summer feels compressed this year. Spring was late, and

all my flowers seem to bloom two weeks past their usual time.
 Already people are talking about autumn.                                  

 Wasn't it just a couple of weeks ago that I was photographing peony buds?

Summer evenings are  a joy, reading on the porch, watching robins and rabbits 

through twilight, the sounds of neighborhood children playing outside after dinner.

 My flower bed has gone from being calm and distinct 

to a weedy tangle, and somehow I missed the transition. 

It's been many years since I've done much gardening.

 When my children were young and my life overfull,
 tending a garden went from pleasure to chore. 

But now it's becoming pleasure again, in small bits. 

For one thing, I've been weeding in the evening. 

Many people do their gardening in the early morning, 

but I am not a morning person, and if I try to force it, well, it becomes a chore again. 

But my evenings are mostly my own, and these days I spend them reading.

 So I take a break from my books and weed for a while.

 It's quiet and shady and sometimes even meditative. 

  

Best of all though, are the wildflowers in the country.

                                       

They don't need weeding,

and their petite charms are beyond anything I could cultivate.

I hope that you are enjoying summer (or winter if you are on the other side of the globe).

xo, Jen

a visit to Bow Street Flowers (and a poem)

Bow Street Flowers is in Somerville, MA. near the Cambridge border,

where there are always fun things to see.
On this visit a car covered with floppy discs. 

Remember those? Time warp. And it wasn't that long ago, in real time,

but in virtual time it is ancient history.

But we still have flowers. Right outside the shop, as I walked up,
I watched a woman come out and put her flowers in her bike basket.

I was so enchanted by that sight, I didn't even notice her fabulous pants 

until I looked at the picture she kindly allowed me to take before she cycled away.

If you've read my other Bow Street posts (here and here) you know that there is
much more than flowers in that small shop. Shelley has created a place 

of beauty, warmth and whimsey.
Every time I go there I say I want to live there, and that it's like
walking into a story book. Because it is.

I had one of those childhoods where I wanted to be part of
everyone else's family. I was always looking for a home. And now,
I have a lovely home (two, in fact) and a dear family,
but that lonely child hovers.

There are places that fill me with longing and love.

A little shop with rabbits underfoot

and flowers galore makes me feel complete.

I bring some of that home with me,

 flowers, enough for two arrangements.

Aji supervises.

I smile all day. It's the flowers, and more.

                          Dog-Days

A ladder sticking up at the open window,

The top of an old ladder,

And all of Summer is there.

Great waves and tufts of wisteria surge across

        the window

And a thin, bleated blossom

Jerks up and down in the sunlight;

Purple translucence against the blue sky.

"Tie back this branch," I say,

But my hands are sticky with leaves,

And my nostrils widen to the smell of crushed green.

The ladder moves uneasily at the open window,

And I call to the man beneath,

"Tie back that branch."

There is a ladder leaning against the window-sill,

And a mutter of thunder in the air.

                   --Amy Lowell (1874-1925)

orange roses, pink seas

Through the week I've watch the orange roses (here) go from debutantes 

to roses of a certain age.

 The color gradations knock me out.

These abstract closeups help me see them in a new way.

For me, that's what art does.

Yesterday, I finished a quasi-impressionistic painting of roses 

and painted this

and these.

It's been a hot weird week and it felt so good to break into something new.

I have a green land, pink seas series in mind

inspired by the peony bud in this post.

Peonies, they took over our lives for a while, didn't they?

curious jen

 Orange roses.

It started at Two Old Tarts last weekend.

Orange roses among cakes and pies and tarts.

Instead of eating my dinner I kept taking pictures.

So when I saw a bunch of orange roses for sale…

Enough for two vases. So I'd never be too far away from them.

Why? What is it about that color? And me and flowers?

 And why are cats endlessly amusing?

It rained all day and they hung out on their ironing board perch

while I primed the walls in the upstairs hall.

For five years there have been six large paint swatches 

in blues and greens on those walls.

And this picture.

Now it's a nice fresh primer white and I just might keep it white.

A big step for me. (Understand, my dining room is pink.)

Eventually Aji roused herself to investigate

the roses in my bedroom.

And I'm thinking it might be time to paint a mural.

Something with a cat or two. 

And orange roses.

flowers in the house

I got a bundle of beauty from Bow Street Flowers last week. 

First I put them all in a blue vase.

Each flower is intriguing. No wonder I get obsessed with them.

I took a few and played around with various vases.

 And with paintings. 

This black and white one by my son Matt seemed like a good backdrop for flowers.

The orange vase and blowzy peony didn't work with this group

so it went on the dining room table where it is holding its own nicely.

The pink roses add warmth but aren't distracting.

The rounded old fashioned flowers and curvy vases work nicely with the sharp modern painting.

Also that cool sculptural branch!

I love this Persian vase, though I'm not sure about its colors and design here.

The trailing vine takes my breath away.

After all those cool black and whites it's nice to get back to some hot pinks.
There are flowers everywhere I look these days.
I think June is my favorite month.

Visit Small But Charming for more glimpses of flowers in the house.

green land, pink sea

Spring was late this year, but I've been savoring it. 

My Massachusetts yard has become a rabbit refuge. 

Yesterday two of them were playing leapfrog.

Who says dandelions are weeds?

The wildflowers in the Catskills are enchanting. 

I haven't gotten up there as much as I'd like, but will make up for it this summer.

I'm really into blue flowers right now, and purply blues,

I need to plant some delphiniums.

Another picture from the wedding. The bride and bridesmaids

leaving her family apartment.

Below are their bouquets.

Flowers and ceremony decor were done by Fleurish NYC,

and they did a great job.

My peonies haven't bloomed yet.

They remind me of globes--

green land, pink sea.