Sunday, July 09, 2006

Yesterday was one of those types of days that Yours Truly truly finds remarkable, one that careens from moment to moment, gig to gig, conversation to conversation, a salad, if You will, of good and mediocre bits tossed about.
First gig was documenting a rather far-flung garden walk that spreads over possible five miles, a disjointed affair under a flowery header and featuring, as they do, gardens of the usual items reconfigured to be made into someone else's own.
I headed to one garden as it featured a maze. Imagine the surprise of YT when I walked around the corner, scanned said yard, saw no maze at all, and then noted a most petite maze made of bricks in a maze pattern, separated by neatly planted rows of thyme. I spent some time marveling at the concept and placed gardened plants when the owner/gardener emerged from her home. I liked her at once, a familiar face that screamed I am a friendly gardener with a solid sense of humour. We talked mazes. And then her bamboo was noted and YT was off and running. Figuratively.
Her neighbor appeared and we spoke more bambooese. I saw this garden and saw the most gorgeous bamboo ever - goldenrod bamboo which looks like some gardener with OCD has taken brush to bamboo, painting neat little gilded areas. These two fellow bamboo lovers tipped me off to a fab, they say, bamboo joint in Rochester.
My beloved grandmother Victoria had a stand of hale bamboo in her garden in Smyrna, GA, outside of Atlanta well before it was Hotlanta.
That's one of several childhood garden memories. As kids are tossed outside to amuse themselves, or at least they were then, my sister and I meandered about a lot of gardens, these imprinting very florally.
The next gig was up in Canada, a wedding and this was for guests a four-day affair. For me it was a long collection of hours, it ending truly at 10 but the mom insisting I stay to get a certain photo memory about one hour later. So I sat off in the shadows, watching all from afar, making some random calls as, happily, the cellie was registering these far reaches as Middling City = no roaming charges. Finally, and YT does mean Finally, the moment happened. Frame. Frame. Frame. Then off into the pitch again to wander down a road, the music carried off in a slow Doppler wind.
Saw some fireflies. Saw no mayapples.

Fire fried Love.

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