But I think that ruins have beauty
Yesterday while a family member was in the hospital for a scheduled surgery and I could do nothing except wait to hear the results (it went well), I went for a walk and photographed flowering things.
In fact, the tree directly in front of our house is a Bradford pear. It looks majestic so long as you don't inhale.
The twigs grow their own corsages.
I still miss the cherry trees on our old street, but at least I do not have to walk far from our new one.
I have no idea what these flowers belonged to, but they seemed adventurous in their extension over stone.
The clouds were coming up fast, but the magnolia tree was stupendous.
I thought first of Ozymandias, then of de Chirico.
The pussy willow glowed against the dimming sky.
The redbud, even more so.
The budding ornamental cherry was the last thing of which I could get a decent picture before the squall, which continued for the rest of my walk home. I texted![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
spatch triumphantly, "Petrichor!"
In the evenings I have been staring at movies with hot compresses over each eye in turn. I had never seen Dennis O'Keefe pre-noir and would not recommend Burn 'Em Up O'Connor (1939) as an introduction despite its macabrely unraveling murder plot, but The Chaser (1938) is a delightful exposition of rules-lawyering in an pre-Code atmosphere of everyone working an angle and chief among them O'Keefe as the kind of fast-talk charmer whose ambulance-chasing comes with fifty-year-old statutes up its sleeves in the event of needing to fight an unjust transit authority, which is a very relatable fantasy if you have tried to catch a bus lately. Plotwise I have almost nothing to say about The Omaha Trail (1942) except that its conceit of a literal wagon train—the transportation of a locomotive by ox train—is cute and its villain's reasons for sabotaging it are especially capitalist, but it starred Pamela Blake and Howard da Silva was in the supporting cast and Harry Morgan in his first year on film was already doing one of his quiet little enforcers and I just felt attacked. I tried to watch Love Letters (1945) for Joseph Cotten and Jennifer Jones and tapped out because while it may have been inevitable that someone would write Cyrano de Bergerac darkfic, why did it have to be Ayn Rand?
Tonight I found out that I am part of a display of Lethe Books at the Imaginary Bookshop in Greenfield and I'm pretty happy about it.
In fact, the tree directly in front of our house is a Bradford pear. It looks majestic so long as you don't inhale.
The twigs grow their own corsages.
I still miss the cherry trees on our old street, but at least I do not have to walk far from our new one.
I have no idea what these flowers belonged to, but they seemed adventurous in their extension over stone.
The clouds were coming up fast, but the magnolia tree was stupendous.
I thought first of Ozymandias, then of de Chirico.
The pussy willow glowed against the dimming sky.
The redbud, even more so.
The budding ornamental cherry was the last thing of which I could get a decent picture before the squall, which continued for the rest of my walk home. I texted
spatch triumphantly, "Petrichor!"In the evenings I have been staring at movies with hot compresses over each eye in turn. I had never seen Dennis O'Keefe pre-noir and would not recommend Burn 'Em Up O'Connor (1939) as an introduction despite its macabrely unraveling murder plot, but The Chaser (1938) is a delightful exposition of rules-lawyering in an pre-Code atmosphere of everyone working an angle and chief among them O'Keefe as the kind of fast-talk charmer whose ambulance-chasing comes with fifty-year-old statutes up its sleeves in the event of needing to fight an unjust transit authority, which is a very relatable fantasy if you have tried to catch a bus lately. Plotwise I have almost nothing to say about The Omaha Trail (1942) except that its conceit of a literal wagon train—the transportation of a locomotive by ox train—is cute and its villain's reasons for sabotaging it are especially capitalist, but it starred Pamela Blake and Howard da Silva was in the supporting cast and Harry Morgan in his first year on film was already doing one of his quiet little enforcers and I just felt attacked. I tried to watch Love Letters (1945) for Joseph Cotten and Jennifer Jones and tapped out because while it may have been inevitable that someone would write Cyrano de Bergerac darkfic, why did it have to be Ayn Rand?
Tonight I found out that I am part of a display of Lethe Books at the Imaginary Bookshop in Greenfield and I'm pretty happy about it.
no subject
no subject
Thank you! I like having them to walk around among.
no subject
no subject
Thank you! I feel like I missed so much of getting to know the neighborhood on foot last year, I am still discovering trees.
no subject
Your photos are beautiful--blossoms almost always are, but I'm also very fond of pussy willows as they explode like that.
no subject
It employs a smoothie lawyer who suborns witnesses and rigs his own technicalities of the law in order to protect his clients even when their streetcars injure people for life, so our ambulance-chasing hero has been annoying them with effective nonsense suits—fictitious complaints which can't be medically disproved, et cetera—which he very often wins—whence the premise of the company setting out to nail him and all else that follows, like the romance.
Your photos are beautiful--blossoms almost always are, but I'm also very fond of pussy willows as they explode like that.
I love how you suddenly made them sound like a Dylan Thomas poem, which they are.
no subject
I thought first of Ozymandias, then of de Chirico.
That's the sort of sentence I love to stumble into.
Nine
no subject
Thank you! The flowers went straight to the patient, in lieu of the real thing.
That's the sort of sentence I love to stumble into.
*hugs*
no subject
I'm glad the surgery went well, although I'm sure that was not a fun day. ♥
Tonight I found out that I am part of a display of Lethe Books at the Imaginary Bookshop in Greenfield and I'm pretty happy about it.
Aw, that's great.
no subject
Enjoy it without qualifications! Just don't plant one. Your neighbors will not thank you and you will not thank me.
I'm glad the surgery went well, although I'm sure that was not a fun day.
*hugs*
Aw, that's great.
Thank you! It was a total surprise. Next best thing this week after Johnny Eager.
*
wallows in this floral beauty
Re: *
It's one of the things that flowers are for!
no subject
has an instinctive recoil from the Bradford Pear
Growing up my hometown decided to line the main highway with them. It was awful.
no subject
It sounds intensely regrettable. Somerville has made similar mistakes.
no subject
What a wonderful bookshop display.
no subject
Thank you!
What a wonderful bookshop display.
no subject