It turns out there is a giant place that begins 174 miles south of GroveAtopia. Even though there is no visible dividing line other than a sign, the minute you cross into it you know you are someplace else.
First there are the exit numbers. Seven hundred and ninety-six of them. My goodness that's a lot of exits. Especially compared to our relatively humble three hundred and eight. So right away you know you something has changed.
Then there is the weather with its unending blue sky and sun. As you wend your way through the mountains and descend into the great valley, once again you realize you have brought the wrong clothes. That's because even though it's mid-March, down here it's 75 degrees. Your GroveAtopian wardrobe just won't do.
Silly you, you even brought along heavy sweater. You only brought one short sleeve shirt and that was an afterthought. Now you realize you could have brought your entire summer wardrobe and been just fine. But now it's too late.
What is it like living with all this sun and sky? Well it does whacky things to the flowers. They bloom everywhere, all the time. Nothing ever seems to die. Nothing ever seems to have time to rest. There is never that time when everything is dead, quiet or resting. No anticipation of the first appearance of this or that little green thing poking its head through the soil you were convinced was dead.
You might think with all this sunny weather that the people who live here would always be sunny too, but that's not the case. It's not their fault though. They live in a place that's so vast that even the smallest towns are swallowed up by their bigger neighbors. And because of their sheer numbers, by and large they live lives of anonymity. And that can make people cranky.
Even so, it's nice that things are so nice here so that occasionally we GroveAtopians may visit and enjoy them. Then, lucky us, we get to go back. Back to who and what we know. It's colder, nowhere near as sunny and nowhere near as blue, but we've been there long enough that we believe that's how things are and that's how they should be.
Others might not see it. They might not agree. But we love it and embrace it and we even defend it in the face of logic and evidence to the contrary.
That's because when we are back, as we pass each other we smile, whether we know each other or not. We don't depend on the weather for our sun. We depend on each other, and because of that, it's always sunny in GroveAtopia.
March 23, 2010
March 13, 2010
Decisions decisions
Today the weather was fine here in GroveAtopia, so of course we were outside in the garden. And in the garden this is the time of year for decisions.
Until now we've been able to ignore the garden and pretend nothing was happening out there all winter. But now, we've had enough fine weather that we can no longer ignore the simple fact that indeed there have been things happening out there and now is the time to face them.
We've been doing a windshield survey of the situation gazing out the window now and then over the past few weeks, trying to assess the situation. We had that awful week of weather from somewhere else, where the temperatures were in single digits. What made it through and what didn't?
By now you thought you had a pretty good idea what the answer is. The ceanothus did not make it. But the forsythia did. The penstimon didn't make it and that was surprising. And oh dear, the lavetera looks completely dead. And you've been nursing that one along for 5 years now.
But today we had the chance to take a closer look. Yes indeed the ceanothus is gone. Darn! It was just starting to look great. That's a real loss. The forsythia is unscathed. Good. But the lavetera, it looks completely devesated. You raise the shovel, ready to uproot it - but wait! Look closely. Leaves! New ones at the base of the plant! Oh joy! Survival!
We make our way down the bed, pulling weed after weed, and yanking on last year's brown grass. Then it catches your eye. An unfamiliar clump. And now comes the decision. Weed or not? Pull it or leave it?
You search your mind's eye hoping to find a match. Have you seen it before? Last year, what did you do?
Now a real gardener would probably know in an instant what to do, but for the rest of us, these moments of decision can weigh heavily upon us. If we leave it, and it is a weed, will it transform into one of the vicious ones that, by the time you get around to pulling it will spray millions of its seeds in your garden?
But what if you pull it and it turns out that it was something lovely? Now that would truly be a tragedy. Plant by plant we make our decisions as best we can.
Sometimes we make the wrong one as the plant we just dug out by the root shows us the new leaves that we suddenly recognize, but it's too late. We are saddened and wish we could take it back. Maybe we can put it back, and maybe it will grow anyway. Maybe not.
To make up for our error, we may leave that mysterious clump with fresh new leaves - even though we have no idea what it is. Let's just wait and see.
Then you step back for a moment and take it all in. Yes some beloved plants died. Yet others you thought would actually didn't. We try not to dwell on it and once the job is done, we don't.
But as we are doing it, plant by plant, weed by weed, for a moment we hold a tiny bit of fate in our hands. Decision by decision we move through the garden rediscovering yet again, just what it is we have growing out there.
Until now we've been able to ignore the garden and pretend nothing was happening out there all winter. But now, we've had enough fine weather that we can no longer ignore the simple fact that indeed there have been things happening out there and now is the time to face them.
We've been doing a windshield survey of the situation gazing out the window now and then over the past few weeks, trying to assess the situation. We had that awful week of weather from somewhere else, where the temperatures were in single digits. What made it through and what didn't?
By now you thought you had a pretty good idea what the answer is. The ceanothus did not make it. But the forsythia did. The penstimon didn't make it and that was surprising. And oh dear, the lavetera looks completely dead. And you've been nursing that one along for 5 years now.
But today we had the chance to take a closer look. Yes indeed the ceanothus is gone. Darn! It was just starting to look great. That's a real loss. The forsythia is unscathed. Good. But the lavetera, it looks completely devesated. You raise the shovel, ready to uproot it - but wait! Look closely. Leaves! New ones at the base of the plant! Oh joy! Survival!
We make our way down the bed, pulling weed after weed, and yanking on last year's brown grass. Then it catches your eye. An unfamiliar clump. And now comes the decision. Weed or not? Pull it or leave it?
You search your mind's eye hoping to find a match. Have you seen it before? Last year, what did you do?
Now a real gardener would probably know in an instant what to do, but for the rest of us, these moments of decision can weigh heavily upon us. If we leave it, and it is a weed, will it transform into one of the vicious ones that, by the time you get around to pulling it will spray millions of its seeds in your garden?
But what if you pull it and it turns out that it was something lovely? Now that would truly be a tragedy. Plant by plant we make our decisions as best we can.
Sometimes we make the wrong one as the plant we just dug out by the root shows us the new leaves that we suddenly recognize, but it's too late. We are saddened and wish we could take it back. Maybe we can put it back, and maybe it will grow anyway. Maybe not.
To make up for our error, we may leave that mysterious clump with fresh new leaves - even though we have no idea what it is. Let's just wait and see.
Then you step back for a moment and take it all in. Yes some beloved plants died. Yet others you thought would actually didn't. We try not to dwell on it and once the job is done, we don't.
But as we are doing it, plant by plant, weed by weed, for a moment we hold a tiny bit of fate in our hands. Decision by decision we move through the garden rediscovering yet again, just what it is we have growing out there.
March 12, 2010
While we were away
Even though we haven't been reading and writing about it, GroveAtopia continues on. It does that whether we note it here or not.
So while we were away, things were still happening. We'll talk about some of them here and now - others we will save for later.
Since we last discussed the phone booth behind the Pink House, several others have been spotted around town. Three to be exact. Turns out is a single phone booth at the Shell station on Highway 99 and a double phone booth at the Chevron station across from the Village Green.
So there. Now you know there are at least 4 phone booths in GroveAtopia and there may very well be more. But probably not that many more, and probably many fewer than there were in the days before cell phones.
Of the 4 phone booths we know of, the one at the Pink House is still the best, because it stands alone in a hidden place, not surrounded by any other bright lights, so it doesn't have to compete to stand out. If you are so inclined, take a look for yourself. You could even do a little tour. Drive to each phone booth, then judge for yourself. You'll likely agree that our original phone booth is the best of the lot.
As for the other things that have been happening in GroveAtopia, I will say this. They involve a barn, a bridge, and a hotel. All of them are in peril, only one has a certain and happy future. Which one do you think it is?
Check in now and then to find out.
So while we were away, things were still happening. We'll talk about some of them here and now - others we will save for later.
Since we last discussed the phone booth behind the Pink House, several others have been spotted around town. Three to be exact. Turns out is a single phone booth at the Shell station on Highway 99 and a double phone booth at the Chevron station across from the Village Green.
So there. Now you know there are at least 4 phone booths in GroveAtopia and there may very well be more. But probably not that many more, and probably many fewer than there were in the days before cell phones.
Of the 4 phone booths we know of, the one at the Pink House is still the best, because it stands alone in a hidden place, not surrounded by any other bright lights, so it doesn't have to compete to stand out. If you are so inclined, take a look for yourself. You could even do a little tour. Drive to each phone booth, then judge for yourself. You'll likely agree that our original phone booth is the best of the lot.
As for the other things that have been happening in GroveAtopia, I will say this. They involve a barn, a bridge, and a hotel. All of them are in peril, only one has a certain and happy future. Which one do you think it is?
Check in now and then to find out.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)