Light in the garden. 

Light in the garden. 

All the rain arrived last night, so today we’re back in the garden. In this light, even the lowly impatiens seem celestial.

Elektra: Will you be my cat?

Carl: No, but we can be friends.

Not sure what’s so great about ‘outside,’ honestly. 
—Elektra

Not sure what’s so great about ‘outside,’ honestly. 

—Elektra

Yesterday morning behind the azalea in the garden.

Last year the city tore down one of the houses on my block, which left an ugly gap. One of my neighbors — the unofficial “mayor” of the block, who’s lived here for 40+ years — planted some morning glories on the fence in front of the vacant lot, and while I’d rather see the house, it’s hard to feel bereft looking at flowers (even invasive ones) on a perfect-weather morning like this.

Here’s a few pictures of me heading to the polls this unseasonably hot morning for the NYC primaries. I voted for ___! But not ___, because sorry, no. For some reason today I kept (almost) bumping into people and vice versa. After I voted, I was texting and walking — even though I hate when ppl do that! — and some guy veered in front of me and yelled at me. Let’s face it: I totally deserved to be yelled at. (But of course I yelled back.) That said, I didn’t deserve the nasty glance from the woman on the subway who tried to cut in front of me on the way out the doors at 42nd Street. Sometimes people who have seats act as though they’re royalty and should be carried forth to the front of the line. The good news is that the sun is starting to angle down, which means the shadows are longer and we can all pretend that we’re ghosts walking through the mists. 

Ferns in late summer. I bought these ferns in 1999 at the Union Square farmers market, which makes them older than the Bloomberg administration. I asked them what they thought had changed over the past twelve years, and they just shrugged and said they missed the dinosaurs. 

Saturday morning in Washington Heights, starring blindingly perfect weather. 

This morning on the C-train I feared for a moment that I had died or otherwise been transported to another universe on account of two subway ads, the first for a continuing education program where a woman was staring dreamily up at the sky holding a book called “(ab)normal psychology,” the second for the “number two airline in America” but whose name I didn’t recognize and which pictured what appeared to be a winged mailbox flying through the clouds. Otherwise it’s been a good day, though; I’m not religious, but I’m in favor of any holiday that slows down the corporate workplace for a while. In August, everyone was like “ugh, we can’t get anything done, it’s August,” and now this week everyone is saying, “don’t bother — nobody’s working anyway because of the holidays.” I guess we’ll have to get a few things done before November/December, when work stops because of “the holiday season,” and then January is busy feeling hungover from New Year’s before February is “too depressing,” March/April are “when is spring here,” May is waiting for Memorial Day, and June/July are busy doing summery things like melting in the heat and dreading/longing for the fall, when we go through the whole cycle again. My point being that you spend enough time gardening (and getting old) and you start to think in terms of circles instead of lines.