N is for Now and Northbrae

Mrs. Nesbitt's ABC Wednesday Round 4
has worked its way through the alphabet
to the letter N.

N is for NOW, the perfect time to savor the scent of wisteria wafting through open windows. I took these pictures Saturday. These are not the only floweres that are currently at the peak of their bloom. California poppies have been making shy appearances for several months, but now thay are broad swathes of orange in gardens where thay have been sown. Ice plant has appeared in several nearby gardens, an unusually brilliant and almost flourescent purple carpet. But these are my own flowers, photos from my bathroom window to the copper roof and trellis where the leaves of the wisteria add summer insulation to our entryway and dining room.




N is also for Northbrae Library, the branch of the Berkeley Public Library that I most often frequent. The lovely building was constructed in the late 1930s. The large building occupies most of a large triangular block. The pointed end of block has a small, pleasant park.

It is rich in decorative detail, both inside and out.

I especially like these decorative tiles.

Every beam in the two large reading rooms
is as rich in decoration as this small detail.

I intended to overwhelm you with photos of this large active library with delicately wrought fireplace mantels, banks of computers for client use, delightful children's room - BUT - the battery on my digital camera died. Next time, perhaps.

This is the link to other blogs that participate in Mrs. Nesbitt's ABC Wednesday Round 4.

Mayday!

Mayday and International Labor Day:

Summer arrived in earnest the last two days, although it's cooler today. Otto and I took advantage of the hot weather to eat lunch in the outdoor patio of a favorite Italian cafe across from the Monterey Market, Berkeley's favorite fresh produce store. It's one of my favorite places for people-watching. The flirting couple and Papa doing baby-sitter duty while working on his laptop, with a latte to earn him table rights, were among my favorites this time. That luscious platter of pannini (enough for two people) was another attraction!

When I was young - for that matter, when my children were young - Mayday was the occasion for hanging anonymous posies on front doors, ringing the doorbell and running like mad. It's a custom I wouldn't mind reviving! We certainly have the flowers for it on this date.

Our wisteria, which covers a trellis that raises it above the tile roof over the dining room, entry, and garage, reached the height of its bloom earlier. I decided (a little late last week) to take pictures of it after it had leafed out and the blossoms had faded somewhat. The fragrance lingers.



MAY DAY

From maypole, festive ribbons fluttered peach,
lavender, pink, mint green and baby blue.
In thought we girls rehearsed our steps to reach
the intricate patterns final weave, each hue
crisscrossed with every other. Our pale bare feet
curled in the cut green lawn. We were too small;
Our turn at last, the ribbons wouldn’t meet
(one high, one low), nor could our teacher’s call
prevent collisions, pull our tangles free.
Reversing, bumping, blushing, we were through.

The threads of history weave imperfectly.
May first, and on our T.V. screens we view
parades of thwarted workers whose spring-bright dreams
have tangled in a web of others’ greed.
A world away a smoky ribbon streams
from a wounded plane. Its cry of urgent need
is ours, who, stumbling, fumble to unbraid a
knotted world where we’ve enmeshed us:

Mayday!
Mayday!