Since the temps promised to be in the 90s and I haven’t be out in anything higher than UV3, Marcia and I decided to go to the Botanic Gardens before the sun climbed too high.
The first thing that hits are the small friendly army of staff and volunteers who weed, water, mulch, give directions, and generally keep the place gorgeous and humming.
We spent a couple of glorious hours looking at Calder: Monumental and other gems. The eight steel sculptures are of course captivating and gorgeous but not all displayed to full effect. One was partially hidden from the path by spiky evergreens so the full view required a walk out onto a wet lawn. Another sat at the base of a slope with a rose garden behind it, making it impossible to see the back. I didn’t get any decent photos because the sun was so bright I couldn’t see to fix the “display and brightness” setting on my phone. The sculpture above is my favorite because it’s kinetic with red on the back that comes into view when the wind blows.
We also caught a look at the Chihuly, which the Gardens purchased after his exhibition a couple of years ago. Wish I could have seen them lit at night.
The highlight from my perspective was the Japanese garden. The teahouse was closed, but the bonsai and views out to the coi pond more than made up for it. The pond had a special appeal as mama duck followed four babies who were doing relay races from the center to the edge.
The only true downer came from three women sitting in the wrought-iron and glass house. The one in the center turned to the Latina-looking one on her left, put her hand on the woman’s arm and said, “Now I know you voted for Trump…” I made a beeline for the exit.
After lunch we stopped at the grocery store, another entirely smooth experience. Everything here seems to flow. Marcia then succeeded in cleaning a layer of bugs off the front of the car that she and Susan had driven to New Mexico. It resembled a coat of armor even after the car had been through the carwash. Those New Mexico bugs must have guts of iron.
Laugh of the day: The cat Nead, pronounced “Ned,” made an appearance and acted like he wanted to sit on my lap but didn’t want to jump. He’s a fluffy Maine coon type, only with a pointy face. I hoisted him, expecting 10 pounds of cat under a mound of fur. He landed hard in my lap because I discovered on the way up that he was closer to 25 pounds! I gasped. He of course made a beeline for the corner. As a recovery from the shock, I laughed so hard I had trouble breathing. That set Marcia off. She laughed so hard she began to cry. It seemed he would never forgive me, but by the next day we’d made up, though he never did sit on my lap.