March goes out in a blaze of flowers

These are the first to bloom this year of the lovely. starry pink tulips sent to me last year by my newest blog reader. I think there will be more: some are in the back yard, on the north side, where things come later. Today I'm planting my nasturtium seeds in the ground. The other annuals and climbing vines are popping up in the flats, and the yard is being taken over by chickweed, which I'm getting my exercise extirpating.

I've started a separate reading blog, which will be added to the list as soon as it has some images on it. My vow is always to have pictures as well as text.

Tomorrow is Palm Sunday in both the Eastern and Western traditions, and the ladies of a local Greek church are preparing wonderful food for lunch. I have a big order placed to take out to the country.

Here are more flowers from the yard. See how the bluebells and trillium have advanced.

The Advance of Spring, or The Equinox Doth Not Tell It

"Every morning now is a fresh wonder, no two quite the same. Thursday, March 1, a cloudless day, the wind blowing easily across the city ." So says Louis J. Halle in his ever-refreshing Spring in Washington (1947, 1957, my Atheneum PB edition from 1963).

Halle rode his bicycle to work at the State Department from his home over the river in Virginia, riding through the parks and watching the life cycles of the birds. whose behaviour sginalled to him the coming of spring weeks before the equinox.

"The mathematicians reckon that spring begins March 21, but the mathematicians are a month behind the season the year around. For those who observe the first signs, spring comes earlier than others know. Before the end of January, while the scenery remains desolate and the sun leaves no warmth, the first sparks are already being enkindled in the breasts of songbirds. As I left my home at daybreak January 22, under a cloud rack becoming visible, in a dead tree across the street a cardinal was singing cue-cue-cue-cue-cue-cue rapidly, all on one pitch and without variation. [and get this!] Up to that moment, for many silent months, I do not recall that my mind had been occupied with other than the indoor thoughts of the hive. In its dark winter quarters it had survived entirely on a diet of paper...."

What writing! And what lovely first hand observations you can share as you perch on his shoulder on those bike rides. Especially vivid to me were the descriptions of Rock Creek Park in both its urban and rustic aspects, because I one lived for five years a few blocks from the edge of the Park. To live in an urban neighborhood but close enough to a small wilderness that pileated woodpeckers perch in the top of the magnolia across the street and at dusk you can watch raccoons in their capable but ungainly descent from the shade oaks is to have the opportunity to observe nature. Once while living in our three story house I happened to go out on a porch rooftop. For the first time in my life I saw warblers. Three stories up (because of the basement) there was another view of my environment. So, Halle is an inspiration to anyone who loves to watch the natural world and its cycles. If the book is not still in print, I'm sure you can find a copy at abebooks.

Coming up: a perfect children's book! (Hint: Publ. 1907 or 1911)

Lots of Shiny Things

from the Speller:

Place a bowl of prunes on the table. Are you able to reach that plain saucer? There are four lemons on a saucer. Place the melon on the table. Does he grow citrons in his garden? I bought that pretty saucer at a sale. Bring a bowl of water for the table. Place the melon on the scales. --What made your face so pale?

I love the unexpected question at the end. A sudden change of mood, suggesting there's more going on than we thought in this domestic scene. (I added the dashes.)

Today's NY Times reports that there will be a memorial service today, presented by the American Turkish Society, for the late Ahmet Ertegun, with several notables speaking, including Susan Steinberg. Ertegun made an impression on me when I was young and mostly ignorant because of his unusual name. I used to wonder if he was real. Years later, when I knew a little more, I realized that he was Turkish.

Also in the Times today is a story about pedicab drivers in New York. The subheadline is "Drifting Through Manhattan in a Pedicab, as Though Down the Mississippi on a Raft." The story makes me want to go to NY and ride in a pedicab. A driver says of his work, "You're outside all the time. You start when you want, quit when you want, take whatever days off you want. You're pretty much your own boss. It's one of the last bohemian jobs left." Sounds like great work to me, though it's being threatened -- of course -- by new regulations.

Okay, so there are more important things in the day's news, but this one caught my fancy.

Here are the miniature spring flowers, joining the crocuses and daffodils:

These are Iris reticulata. Next to them are Tete-a-tete daffodils, but I don't have a good picture. And here is my new mailbox, given me by my doctor-artist neighbor, whose house was formerly #9:

Views are of its west, south, and east-facing sides. Zack's ship is still supporting it but needs to be repainted to match the shiny new box.

One more note: March 7 will mark the 20th anniversary of -- ????