POND WALK Pond blinks, red-rimmed under October cloud-glare, as landscape begins to change. Or that is just eyes grown used to gritty air. But here, freely, widely do the encircling, while water shines or clears of sun-leaves, ripples, swans’ feet. Pass a wine-stained, blood-stained, love-stained vine winding a tree, a melancholy, a potion. Yes and no. Leaves know only their going, not the pacing of minds. Sit on a stone embedded by water. Pick up driftwood birch with its dark inscriptions, but look elsewhere. Hear the greens crackle behind you. Pond wind fans bright, cold coming fire.
Bring for SD and Pond St. Some intentional choice of particular flowers and hanging containers of sweet good will bring hummingbirds. The one that visits my friend’s deck outlined in temptation beautifully lives in flickers, feeds itself in glimpses. In an abundant garden I walk past, there hovers feather-bright metal art, the hummingbird god itself, with long-toothed, triumphant wings lifted over its earth, where summer mauve coneflowers darken into their own gold-brown eyes, and blue hydrangeas crackle. This bird must hold all my friend’s small gem left behind in flight, the price of bearing seasoned witness from the formal border of time.
I do not know the name of the artist featured throughout this wonderful garden, but I’m a fan.
Nuances of shape and color when the summer pinks fade are just as beautiful as the variations of autumn colors arriving. Flow out, flow in. Nature offers changing Creative gifts, and we offer our attention in return.
Photos by Me.
With sincere thanks to the gardeners of Pond Street in Jamaica Plain, MA for the artistry of their abundant gardens and their wish that passersby have pleasure.