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Posts Tagged ‘Map My Walk’

Wednesday, 11 February 2015

Nature is the one who wakes up the gardens, not me, but I like to take credit on the first gardening visit of the year.

We spent the day along Howerton Way at the Port of Ilwaco, concentrating on a four block stretch of curbside garden beds, all within sight of home.

We skipped the easternmost three beds and started at the one that caught my eye with tall ornamental grasses that needed clipping.

before, by the former Wade Gallery building

before, by the former Wade Gallery building

one hour later, trimmed, fluffed and weeded

one hour later, trimmed, fluffed and weeded

By the way, that cute little building is available to buy or rent.

Note there is one less tree. (It was lined up with the nose of the white truck.)  The columnar pear on the right had succumbed to wind and was crispy as can be, so down it came at last.  The ornamental pears that were planted by volunteers, at the port, in 2007 (as I recall) have not exactly thrived.  The ones in full wind (for example, next to an open parking lot) have suffered and, in this case, died.  It makes a big difference just to be protected from the south wind by a bulding.

It took another hour to weed persnickity small weeds out of the gardens by the former Shorebank building and the Ilwaco pavilion.

a carpet of shotweed and little weed grasses

a carpet of shotweed and little weed grasses

That's better!

That’s better!

looking back on the Shorebank garden

looking back on the Shorebank garden

A good display of yellow crocus at the base of redtwig dogwood, Shorebank

A good display of yellow crocus at the base of redtwig dogwood, Shorebank

Walking west to tackle the next garden bed

Walking west to tackle the next garden bed

Next, we did the tiny little square that Allan named “the drive-over garden”.  It’s by a big parking lot where a lot of fishing folks’ pick up trucks come and go and does get driven over and partially flattened fairly often.

The Drive-over Garden, before

The Drive-over Garden, before

A truck definitely went over this santolina.

A truck definitely went over this santolina.

after

after; Tough plants like Armeria, Santolina, thyme, and Sedums can stand the driving over.  The flowers of delicate spring bulbs…not so much.

We weeded along the garden by the Marie Powell Gallery.  I left Allan to finish because it hurts me knee to walk on river rock, in which that garden is covered, and headed further west to gardens where I’ve removed the rocky cover.

looking west

looking west

Birds are pulling up little crocuses in the gardens by Don’s gallery and the Port office.  I will say that having a river rock mulch does seem to protect the bulbs from birds.   Last fall, I did not even plant any more crocus here.  (Some of the bright yellow ones back at Shorebank were also pulled up.)

Not sure if the culprit is crows, seagulls, or both.

Not sure if the culprit is crows, seagulls, or both.

The birds don’t seem to bother the Iris reticulata in bloom, even though I’ve found bulbs pecked up in fall right after planting.  The irises are much prettier than crocus, anyway.

Iris reticulata

Iris reticulata

and more Iris reticulata

and more Iris reticulata

and more....I love them very much.

and more….I love them very much.

I hope passersby are noticing and feeling awed by the iris display.  I like them so much more than big irises that bloom in summer.

I left Howerton Way to do the garden on the south side of the port office.  By do, I mean weed and clip plants back.

IMG_8280

before

calm weather and still water on the marina next to me

calm weather and still water on the marina next to me

after

after

Meanwhile, I grew hungry.  Allan had driven off to the east end of the marina to dump a load of clipped grasses and buckets and weeds (and one dead tree).  He had the lunch box, and my bag with money.  What could be taking him so long, I wondered as time passed.  Had the van broken down?

Later, he shared photos of what did happen.

in the field by the dump spot

in the field by the dump spot

too sunk to move

too sunk to move.  Using a found piece pf plywood to try to get out.

trying to get out

trying to get out

Rescue arrives in the form of passing Ilwaco port crew.

Rescue arrives in the form of passing Ilwaco port crew.

left rather a mess behind.  Fortunately, it's a work area, not a show lawn.

left rather a mess behind. Fortunately, it’s a work area, not a show lawn.

IMG_7018

I know exactly why this happened: because I was not along to say “Be careful, don’t sink, don’t get stuck!”  I was just glad to get my tahini and pickle sandwich when he rejoined me in the gardens.

As dusk drew in, we did not not get any further than the garden next to Time Enough Books.  I had dreamed of getting all the way to the end and then the boatyard garden, as well.  Silly.  I thought we might come back for the rest the very next day (but changed my mind and went elsewhere; we’ll get back to the port next week).

looking west...out of time

looking west…out of time

 

Here’s a fun thing, with which I will be amusing you (I hope) in upcoming posts.  I downloaded a phone app called Map My Walk.  Here it shows that I (Flora is the name I use on the social internet) walked almost three miles in five hours, over the course of four blocks.  The lines are thick as I went over and over and over and around and around each bed.

IMG_8288

The thick line going off the the water’s edge is when I did the port office garden (walking back to the van to carry debris; I did not have the wheelbarrow because of the van vs. mud incident). Here is a ‘satellite view’ that shows the workday imposed over the (May through Sept.) Port’s Saturday Market .

Screen Shot 2015-02-13 at 1.08.04 AM

We dumped the last debris, carefully and without driving onto the grass.  The water in the port remained still and reflective.

P1130984

CoHo Charter boats.

CoHo Charter boats.

Next: back to Long Beach on Thursday.

Book stuff (just for those who like book stuff)

No more garden stuff till tomorrow’s post.

I finished Open City by reading till 2 AM.

Open City

Open City

Calvin is rather a pest when I read in bed.

pushy and nudgy Calvin

pushy and nudgy Calvin

For those of you who like bookish posts, here are some examples of the beautiful writing in Open City.

I became aware of just how fleeting the sense of happiness was and how flimsy its basis.  A warm restaurant after having come in from the rain, the smell of food and wine, interesting conversation, daylight falling weakly on the polished cherrywood of the tables. It took so little to move the mood from one level to another, as one might move pieces on a chessboard.  Even to be aware of this, in the midst of a happy moment, was to push one of those pieces, and to become slightly less happy.”

(later)

Instinctively saving a baby, a little happiness.  Spending time with Rwandans, the ones who survived, a little sadness; the idea of our final anonymity, a little more sadness.  Sexual desire fulfilled without complication, a little more happiness; and it went on like that, as thought succeeded thought.  How petty seemed to me the human condition, that we were subject to this constant struggle to modulate the internal environment, this endless being tossed about like a cloud.  Predicatbly, the mind noted that judgment, too, and assigned it its place: a little sadness.”

On attending a photography exhibit by Martin Munkácsi, he looks at the following photo and thinks, “It was from this picture in particular than Henri Cartier-Bresson had developed the ideal of the decisive moment.”:

munkasci

Photography seemed to me, as I stood there in the white gallery with its rows of pictures and its press of murmuring spectators, an uncanny art like no other. One moment, in all of history, was captured, but the moments before and after it disappeared into the onrush of time; only that selected moment itself was privileged, saved, for no other reason that having been picked out by the camera’s eye.”

I just had been inspired to finally (eventually) read Anna Karenina while reading The Year of Reading Dangerously on my last bit of staycation.  Suddenly, she appears again in Open City...

anna

The second loveliest passage in Open City was this experience when the narrator goes into a little shop in Chinatown (New York City):

china

china2

And to me, this was the most beautiful passage in the book:

birds

 

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