The quieter you become, the more you are able to hear. ~ Rumi
New York finally got a break from its heat wave.
Less tropical thunderstorm, more downpour of epic proportions. Basically, it poured buckets and buckets; an orchestra of sounds punctuated by the lightning’s crackles, booms, and roars.
It was kinda cool. I would have photographed it if I had my camera on me… I was 20 minutes from home and kindly let into the lobby of a condo tower to wait until the weather calmed down. I learned alot about the (extravagant) price of Williamsburg’s current real estate market in that conversation; a bust no more, it seems.
The flowers on my window sill are a picture of calm after the storm.
Don’t ask what the world needs.Ask what makes you come alive, and go do it. Because what the world needs is people who have come alive. ~ Howard Thurman
I took my Sony Cybershot for a spin today. It’s a great little camera, so light and easy to use. Photographed at 72 pixels, each image still comes across with vibrant colour. Thanks Williamsburg.
Streets, crowded with people singing songs.
Giving and receiving.
If we only walk on sunny days, we’ll never reach our destination ~ Paulo Coehlo
When greens and reds fill in winter’s blueprint. When it’s bright and sunny one day; overcast, humid, and sticky – the next. It’s when Williamsburg takes on a sense of the tropics. For me, this is reminiscent of holiday time in Fiji, just without the stretches of beach, the rainforest, and waterfalls. It’s a nice way of being. I like it.
I never really used to notice nor commit to memory the organic changes brought about by the seasons (so defined in the Northern Hemisphere); that changed once I started carrying around my camera. It’s as if by documenting the details I feel the season more.
Here are some of today’s scenes embedded in my photographic memory. I hope you enjoy!
The return of the ivy covered wall. I love nature’s elegant way of elevating the beauty of brick-and-mortar.
Streets are lined with window boxes and blooms.
… which means more reason to dine out.
Cheeky and colourful, it’s Always Sunny in Williamsburg, no matter the time of year.
Traveling with a camera might mean doing away with an itinerary given my sheer disregard for time. On a recent trip to Getty Villa in Malibu, I didn’t step foot in the museum because I was too busy exploring its gardens. Up until closing time, I was experimenting with “depth of field” on purple blooms.
A few weeks ago I learned of National Public Gardens Day. On May 11, the American Public Gardens Association (APGA) encourages people to visit their local public garden and learn about their impact on the greater community.
Sponsored by the APGA and Rain Bird, National Public Gardens Day helps raise awareness of the botanic gardens, arboreta, conservatories and public gardens across the country.*
I came across the information when I was entering a photo competition held by the association. (NB: US residents, you may be interested in entering the competition here. Entries close on May 15.) Scanning the webpage, I noticed that Getty Villa would be participating is the day’s celebrations.
I immediately thought back to my recent visit to the museum where I spent the whole time in its Mediterranean-inspired gardens. Set in the mountains and overlooking the Pacific Ocean, the Villa marries the best of both worlds. Its gardens are immaculate and have a variety of flora on show.
If you can’t make it to a public garden on May 11, enjoy these photos as a second option. I have written about the Getty Villa – it was one of my first blog posts and you can read it here.
Imagine inhaling the salty sweet smell of the ocean.
In the image below, you’ll notice Santa Monica and Venice Beach in the distance.
The gardens are to the left; the ocean, in the background.
The design of the Barbara and Lawrence Fleischman Theater, a classical outdoor theater, was based on ancient prototypes. Even around two in the afternoon, the sun feels too warm to sit under without shade.
The Italian Renaissance Garden: The Medici, the ruling dynasty of Florence, used gardens to demonstrate their own power and magnificence. “During the first half of the sixteenth century, magnificence came to be perceived as a princely virtue, and all over the Italian peninsula architects, sculptors, painters, poets, historians and humanist scholars were commissioned to concoct a magnificent image for their powerful patrons.” wikipedia
Around the corner, the Herb Garden is edged by palms, coloured with blossoms, and planted with herbs. In ancient times, such gardens provided the kitchen with medicinal and fragrant ingredients for cooking.
When I visited, this plum tree was not yet bearing fruit. I do love its twisted trunk – it looks like someone is wringing out a wet towel.
I’m quite fond of some good ol’ clichés; I use them and I’ve come across many in recent articles. Yet they are considered a no-no in writing.
Cliché, defined: a phrase or idea that has been used so often that it is no longer interesting or effective. (Source: Oxford American Dictionary)
There’s a reason why a cliché is a cliché; like a quote, sometimes it describes something so succinctly, that – depending on the nature of the writing – it might be just the right wording you’re looking for.
Recently, I read an article in the New York Times by A.A.Gill: My London, and Welcome to It, that was dotted with clichés; from phrases such as the river runs like dark silk through the heart of the city, to non-specific words like charming, wonderful, and beautiful.
Reading his prose, I thought it brilliant; I wasn’t bothered by his choice of words one bit as I was swept away by the tongue-in-cheek writing style.
While I do strive to do justice to my travel writing by utilizing concrete descriptions, I believe there to be a time and a place for clichés. But that’s just my two cents.
While silence may be golden, I’d love to know your thoughts: when do you think it right, or wrong, to use a cliché?
In the meantime, kick your feet up and scroll through images of a lush and blooming Williamsburg, peppered with some oft-used phrases. Enjoy!
Stop and smell the roses.
Old meets new.
Spring to life.
No pain, no gain.
Everything but the kitchen sink.
Labour of love.
Nip it in the bud.
Knock it out of the park.
Photographing til my heart’s content.
Rewind. Back to Monday.
No choice but to push aside any notion of those so-called Monday morning blues. A chilly start gave way to a spectacular spring-like day in New York. I don’t know why I felt so unprepared; March 20th is around the corner after all.
Armed with the knowledge that Central Park’s cherry blossoms were in bloom a few weeks too early, I’d planned to walk to the Jacqueline Kennedy Reservoir from 68th Street on Central Park West, up to around 94th Street East, where I know many of the trees line its water’s edge.
An unexpected change of plans.
I had two hours to spare, yet I never made it to the Reservoir. Was I a slow walker? Did I take lose my way within the Park’s criss-cross of pathways? No, and kind of.
Entering the Park, I was immediately sidetracked. My purpose and direction had given way to inevitable distraction and intrigue. From stopping and starting to admire practically every flower in bloom – daffodils, snowdrops, crocuses; to dodging cyclists, strollers, and groups of runners; to stumbling upon a meeting of the minds with some hard-shelled creatures (who won my heart) – I was simply caught up in a seasonal change of pace.
What a far cry from the snowscapes I’d documented in the same area a couple of months ago.
Caught up in springtime musings, I only managed a walk around part of the Lake, and across to Bethesda Terrace – both spots a stone’s throw away from my where I’d started. Yet I wouldn’t have had it any other way. Such is the appeal of Central Park; so alluring is the unfurling of its changing landscape as the months go on.
That’s all wonderful, but what of those blooming pink cherry blossoms – you might be asking? Whilst I am planning on returning again soon, I saw so much more that I had anticipated during this time-out.
You’ll see what I mean.
Enjoy the stroll!
Flowers line the park’s entryways along Central Park West. The gentle hum of Spring takes over; there’s a buzz in the air. Bunches of gold daffodils make for a jovial welcoming party, as if smiling under the sun’s rays…
A solitary bouquet of snow-white white crocuses peeking out from the ground; so delicate, new, and pretty.
Getting closer. Rowboat, framed.
Busy is the background scene. Ice skaters have now given way to rollerbladers; cyclists navigate a busy roadway; runners acclimatise to the sudden hike in temps, all the warmer for the lack of shade. In the midst of it all, daydreamers relax on a park benches and soak in the sun.
An inspired artist, sketching…
Beautiful yellow blossoms add extra colour along the way….
… all the way to the water’s edge.
Only to find, on the other side, a congregation. A meeting of the minds. Under the bare brush and on a couple of rocks – jutting out from under the lake’s surface – a couple of birds and some reptiles have gathered to form a silent ‘council’.
A panoramic scene overlooking Bethesda Terrace and its still-dry fountain. The Loeb Boathouse is to the right; the main part of the Lake, and El Dorado Apartments – to the left. People, in between.
Turn 180 degrees; look right down the length of The Mall, punctuated by the buildings of 59th street at its end. Spot the tripod.