Grant Wood knew that life could be difficult on that road.
This is a picture taken a few years ago of our old house. I haven't been there in over 25 years, a friend took this picture when he was in the old 'hood. The conifers in the front yard were our live Christmas trees which we planted after the Christmas season was over. I remember planting three of them - a Scots Pine, which we called a Scotch Pine, a spruce of some sort, and a fir. I would use a mattock to chip a hole in the frozen earth and tip the root ball into the hole, pile the loose dirt onto the burlap that was wrapped around the roots, pour on a bit of water from inside the house and hope for the best.
In the intervening years all of them have grown. It is kind of impressive - there were no trees at all in that neighborhood, being on a ridge and all, when we moved there, now, 52 years after we left it is covered with 'em.
This afternoon I took a picture of my dog out by a walnut tree I planted when I moved to my current abode 6 years ago:
I was recently reading about the fable "L'homme qui plantait des arbres", again, then I stumbled across the picture of the grown trees I posted above, and being in a reflective mood I considered all the trees I have planted wherever I have lived. I transplanted a white oak from my old house to the one I am in now and some Mexican sunflowers hitchhiked in the root ball, and this is how they looked last month:
The Metasequoia glyptostroboides I planted at my old place around the year 2000 or so are now close to 90 feet tall. The first time I ever saw a Dawn Redwood was in the Arboretum at UC Berkeley. I had driven up there to see the works made by Ishi, a Yahi Indian from northern California. The thing that struck me about the display of his works was how nice his workmanship was, but also how few items he had left behind. I compared and contrasted that with an artist whose work I always liked, Alexander Calder. Calder, it has been said, made, on average, one piece of art a day for 50 years. Others suggest that he only made 15,000 pieces. Whichever number is correct, the man kept busy and was no slacker. My goal is to kind of split the difference.
As I say, I am in a place where I am looking back and looking forward. A couple of months early, certainly, but I have my reasons. Will I be remembered for the things I made? For the trees I planted? For my shitty attitude? For my generosity? One thing is certain, I won't know how I am remembered. Others will do that for me.
Later on this winter I will transplant a Liriodendron tulipifera that has sprouted up next to my heat pump. There is also another white oak that needs to be moved, if I had a mind to, I could probably reforest my entire front yard. Ah, wouldn't that be nice - less mowing for me. In fact, that is a seed of a good idea - there are a couple of magnolias that have volunteered underneath my spruce - hmm...
I would like to apologize for the disjointed nature of this post - it's been a tough week, but here we are, and Saturday will be here ere long.
The correct musical link would be Ottorino Respighi's Pini di Roma, but that is a long work, so here is Casta diva from Bellini's Norma. Renee Fleming is amazing.
6 comments:
I like the surreptitious look of the house photo. It's almost like a PI took it.
Also hidden meaning in that telephone pole -- damascene conversion almost.
The flowers look great
CL - it's almost as if you know where I grew up. At least I don't have to live like a refugee!
I'm surrounded by pines planted by the previous owner. They're alright I guess, but the ones planted to the south of the house block the winter sun. Summer sun clears them but winter sun don't so the house is ridiculously cold even on a sunny winter day. Too late for me to change but if you're planning on pines plant them north of your house.
That's a great Grant Wood. He had a genius for planning and executing compositions that once seen stick in the mind's eye. American Gothic of course but also Parson Weem's tale about George "I cannot tell a lie" Washington and the cherry tree.
Grant Wood was great - his landscapes rival those of his fellow regionalist, Thomas Hart Benton. The cherry tree painting has some nice touches - the fringe on the drape matches the cherries on the tree, the cherry trees themselves are perfectly geometrical, as are the trees in the background. But to me, the funniest part is the young George looking just like he does in on the dollar bill - that's a great detail.
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