Yellow and Green

I have been noticing a lot of green and gold this fall.

It looked good on the garden weeds.

This was one of those afternoons when the sun bounces off dark clouds and the colors are really rich and saturated.

While we were electing our communist mayor last week, the young son was home from school. So I took him up to Central Park to climb on the rocks.

The elm trees, something of an obsession of mine, were at their autumn peak.

I tried to photograph the young son leaping around, but it came out as a blur with no child visible.

We wandered around the ramble, and for a moment he felt a little lost.

Checking in on the Garden

I did not do a lot of work on the garden this year. We painted the fence white and laid some slate tiles in a spiral. The rose bush did not do well, victim of the cats leaping around and breaking its canes in the early spring.

Luckily, the neighbor's morning glories climbed over the fence.

I trained a few vines from our side up the fence to meet the others.

We put a bin on the patio to gather leaves for mulch and weeds grew out of it.

A morning glory climbed up the bars on our window.

Out of the base of the crate sprouted the usual suspects that grow literally everywhere.

I love this little blue flowered weed and I am delighted that it sprang up. I had seen them out front last year and was tempted to transplant them. But I decided that transplanting weeds is like playing with fire. If I find some next year I may change my mind. The flowers remind me of lobelia, without all the fragility.

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This castor plant self seeded and came back from last year.

It was so pretty with its purple stems and veins. Unfortunately, I accidentally cut its delicate stem while trimming the grass and it withered on the vine.

I felt really bad, but then the scarlet runner beans, which had been a little depressed, suddenly got it together and bloomed.

Some things I planted this year are still settling in like the wisteria and the forsythia. The light is shifting and the plants seem to know that the season is winding down.

Farewell to Admiral's Row

The demolition of Admiral's Row, which was looming for years, has finally begun. Construction walls have been built around the fence.

Totally off topic; the light on that manhole cover was really pretty.

There are portholes in the wall to watch the progress, but of course the weeds have grown right up against them.

Some of the plexiglass has broken and the weeds have grown out, spreading up the wall.

Others have climbed over the top.

Through one of the broken portholes, I could catch a glimpse of the old ruins.

I have resigned myself to the disappearance of my favorite example of nature taking the city. I just hope that when the developer's are building their big new shopping center, that they leave a few trees in the parking lot, to provide a little shade and a faint memory of the weed jungle that was there before.

Tree of Heaven

The Alanthus trees are blooming, which means the air smells like a catbox, or an old school Bowery bum. Growing in an empty lot, it was a metaphor for the family in A Tree Grows In Brooklyn.

It will grow anywhere.

One sprouted up in my garden between the fence and the netting we use to keep the cats from climbing out. I think it is part of a tree in the neighbor's yard. In fact there are about five of the trees surrounding the garden and I think they are part of one tree. I knew I had to keep it from spreading. I had a hard time because I really admire these trees. But finally I cut it back. It smelled like spice, some kind of vegetable one might find in an Indian restaurant.

Admiral's Row Is Still Standing

Things have been a little crazy which is why I haven't been posting. There has been a slew of dentists, the computers have been in rebellion. I do not know if there is a relation beyond the fact that  both obstacles to my artwork. After a recent skirmish with the new printer, I went out to see if the demolition of Admiral's Row had begun.

The buildings are still there, but the weeds have moved in creating a small forest.

If they wait long enough, the weeds will do the demolition for them. I have almost finished with the dentists, soon I hope to have the computers mollified and I can get back to work.

Crocus

I went to the Botanic Garden to see the plants that had bloomed early. I had imagined all kinds of bulbs and blossoms springing from the ground. In fact there were mostly crocuses.

Apparently they have been in bloom since before Groundhog Day so I am a little late to the whole "global warming flowers bloom in winter" thing. The results of Groundhog day were mixed, Puxatawny Phil said six more weeks of winter, Staten Island Chuck said it was spring. Since our winter has been especially springlike, I guess they were both right.

The crocuses clustered among the trees, looking really pretty.

Anything else blooming was that hardy kind of stuff one expects to see in early spring.

The trees were getting those red and green tints that promise leaves.

The daffodils had also been up since early February and they looked a bit spent.

There was one dandelion.

Overall, everything still looked like winter. It is strange to wander around the barren landscapes in such warm weather.

New Year Dawn

Well, actually two days after the new year dawned.

Everything still feels fresh and new. The light has been spectacular.

Everything seems transformed. There are colors everywhere.

Maybe there are more ice crystals in the air or something.

One of my favorite subjects, cracked windows repaired with duct tape, is positively twinkling.

Here are some intrepid weeds which took advantage of the mild December. I do not know how the weeds are holding up today, as winter has returned in its iciness and wind.

Autumn Equinox

I had hoped to burn a little summer spirit for the equinox, maybe a sunflower, but the forecast was for torrential rain. It seemed appropriate, and I decided to photograph the falling rain to contrast with the vernal equinox.

In the morning the subway was shrouded with fog. But before I could get back, the rain came. It was all I could do to keep from being washed away. I came home sodden, with squishy shoes as the rain eased off but never quite ended.

Then I chose this picture of amaranth as my equinox image. I am so proud of them for coming back strong after being transplanted and outshining the plants in front of my house

I had hoped that the plants in front would grow the spikey things on top, but they didn't.

My other autumn tribute is to these weeds growing in a pothole on the aptly named Greene Avenue, all thanks to the seemingly eternal rain. Although today has been relatively dry, we probably will not see the sun until the end of next week. Holes will form in the streets and weeds will grow in them.

Of Weeds and Disorder

The peas that were looking so promising all turned brown and most of their vines died. I do not know if it was the week of rain or that I missed the moment to harvest the peas. A neighboring vine crept through the fence and took advantage of the string trellis I made for the peas.

After watching the peas shrivel and die, I could not help but marvel at this robust plant curling authoritatively through the garden.  Perhaps some people would not consider this lovely vine to be a weed, but it has that rustic hardiness.

I trained it over the netting we put up to keep the cats from wandering. I just don't want it rushing off and strangling the roses.

My work space is in disarray, I have to sort some shelves and put some things away. I can stand a certain amount of disorder, but when it crosses a certain point I can't do any work until I clean up. 

Hopefully I will be able to do the first plant installation early next week.