Wissahickon Style IX: The Comedy of the Public Good

Post 57

Gorgeous, yes? And pretty sure to being a smile.

This is not my yard. This was how a stretch of Willow Grove Avenue looked for a few weeks this fall, thanks to the generosity/stewardship/ Santa-spirit of a house-owner who, spring, summer and autumn, fills her front yard with a dazzling succession of blooms.

I drive by it whenever I can.

People sometimes talk about the tragedy of the commons but what about the comedy of the public good? --People who everyday try to make life a bit better for people they will never meet.

 Thousand of people drive by this scene every day. There are numerous ecological reasons to have a garden instead of a lawn. We know it makes the earth, the birds and the bees happy. But it also makes us happy, improving the human ecosphere.

 Drab, ugly, uniform surroundings may be efficient and effective from a classical economic viewpoint--but it's hell on the human psyche. Destroying the human ecosphere is like an animal fouling its nest -- something animals instinctively know not to do.

 Everyday people all over the world go out and do things that make the world more pleasing for others. They do not get paid for it, they often do not get thanked for it. But they keep doing it.

This woman was out working on her garden when I stopped to take these pictures. She gave me permission to show her garden and herself. This woman works hard, she says she does it out of a sense stewardship. She let me in to take pictures and as I left tried to give me a big bouquet of dahlias. I was on my way to do errands and, made shy by her generosity, I took one, an orange one, which I keep, now dried, in a crevice on my car's dashboard. As a reminder.

Fall Clean-Up and Thanksgiving

Post 56

I should write about Fall clean up, which I should be doing, but I'm not, since I've got another cold. So I'm posting some pics of my last blooms to make up for lack of weightier content.

Orange-leaved Crepe Myrtle, cobalt Wolfsbane and purple dried Hydrangea--an unplanned color combo that delivers quite a pow. The hydrangeas, right before they go brown, turn extraordinary shades of purple.

 

 

Aside from some of the easy roses, what other plant gives you so much umph from Late June to early November?  Late blooming anemones are also dramatic against the changing foliage.

Has pink ever looked so strong?

And of course the last bloomer, the perennial chrysanthemums with residual mistflower and geranium.

And the remnants of other flowers here and there.

 

In Thanksgiving for a lovely gardening season, Happy Turkey Day.

Wissahickon Style VIII, Smaller Hidden Kingdoms

Post 55

Hidden kingdoms can be hidden in plain sight. Like here, with blue Wolfsbane receding behind bramble and pink anemones.

I was lucky that I had parents who knew how to look for beauty and who taught me the habit. So when I come out of Weaver's Way in Chestnut Hill and am loading my grocery bags into the car, it is not unusual for my interest to be piqued by this...

 

  

Hmmm, what is the old stone wall from and these ruined buildings beyond.  And beyond them,  is that a charming garden I spy?

There is something about an expanse of old wall that excites curiosity.

What is this stuff and how did it get into contemporary, built-up Chestnut Hill?

So, imagine my pleasure when I was garage sailing one morning and a lovely, gardening couple allowed me into their back yard, where I was lured forward by lulling sights like this...

To turn to one side and see...

That I had stumbled upon one small hidden kingdom without even knowing it.  For here in this charming garden that I had hitherto only imagined,  lay a reality far more charming than I had been able to imagine.

The gentleman of the couple explained to me a bit about what he had heard about the ruins. Once a farm with its own s smokehouse (which explains the barn-like structure,) the property had been bought by Ruth's Funeral Home, where in that very smokehouse, they stored the cold dead bodies.

So--Boo! Ha! And  doesn't this recent discovery make for a perfect All Souls' Day post?  So the next time you're at Weaver's Way and see that quaint old barn thing...

Remember that the lovely body you are filling with such healthy food is but a bit dust and ash in the long haul!

And that some think something may or may not lie beyond. Of which we can not discern much. But rumor does ascribe great beauty and even greater charm to what, for now, we can at best only imagine.

 So prayers now for the beloved dead, if that is your wont. And isn't that a neat lamp on the back of the smokehouse? And, yeah, yeah, the light beyond, etc. Had no idea I was going to go all symbolic when I started this post. But the metaphors just seemed to line themselves up.
-------------------------------------------------------------------

I got to be part of a Halloween celebration that entailed wearing a costume to work. I work in a complex place and it was a complex costume --having something to do, I think, with Katherine Hepburn and time travel and the makings of: a currently mislaid, silent movie from the twenties that inexplicably stars an almost 60-year old Hepburn; "Bringing Up Baby, " and; "The Madwoman of Chaillot."  To stifle my usual long-windedness  I nicknamed it for the feminist literary crit. classic "The Madwoman in the Attic."

And while I rarely show myself in this blog, I figure this isn't really,  me-- so what the hey? Therefore, mix well this small dusting of ash with a big pinch of salt.

Wissahickon Style VII, or Hidden Kingdoms and Jill McConkey

Lehman's Lane

Post 54

Price St.

 There are unexpected golden pockets, hidden kingdoms tucked along the Wissahickon. One of them is in Germantown within view of Alden Park and within view of Lincoln Drive.

Jill McConkey, an ex-librarian, grew up in this neighborhood. Because she  loves it so much, she communicates its beauties and history well,

 So please welcome the guest author of this blog --Germantown Friends, Grinnell College and the late lamented Columbia University Libary School alum, library advocate, and all around good Josephine,--Jill McConkey.

 "West Price was a special street. Stunning in spring, with an archway of huge Norway maples, and steep front banks reefed in old azaleas.   It was an especially close community because the twin houses meant  we were packed tightly together and because we all had a generous front porch."

{House at right is where Jill grew up.}

 We had an annual Victorian Christmas party (jointly with residents of brick-paved neighboring Stafford Streett,) a tree planting party(to replace some of the dying old maples with fast growing  red oaks) and even (for a brief time) our own little newsletter. Crime was infrequent since we were in an isolated niche of  Germantown.










We were also able to take full advantage of the nearby park (walking Forbidden Drive) and  running (and rolling) around the grounds of Alden park and swimming in its unique indoor tiled  pool.  My father used to tell us that the red blazes on the stone bridges over Papermill  Run (near Rittenhouse Town)was the blood of Lene Lenape braves.



 It was an ideal neighborhood for trick-or-treating although it took forever as all of the adults had to chat with each other.

This is a documented William Eyre House

Lehman's Lane

We hopscotched,roller skated and jumped roped (even double Dutch) on the smooth asphalt of Price Street, jumping in leaf piles in the fall and discovering that Sycamores drop the best, crunchiest leaves. --

 We also spent a lot of time playing, with neighbor kids, on "Private" yellow brick Lehman's Lane...



Sledding down its steep curves in Winter, playing Hide and Seek and Baby in the Air in summer.  We thought we were the only ones who knew about a hidden special mansion called Oaks Cloister.

Front of Oak Cloisters

An elderly white-haired man and his even older mother used to sit under the dark, arched, Studio porch staring at us.  The Studio was a spooky stone structure behind the Tudor style main house. When they were inside we couldn't resist trespassing.

The Cloisters

 The sprawling, neglected side yard included overgrown fountains and other curiosities. Something of an enchanted secret garden for us.  We gathered acorns from around the grounds for ammunition  in acorn fights.

One  day we found the courage to peek in the windows.  We saw an astonishing cloistered art gallery with marble statues and antique paintings in gilded frames.  We darted away fast because we fancied that this mysterious old man was something of an ogre.

Historical Marker

Turned out that this old man, according to my father, was the son of Joseph Huston who had designed the PA state capitol.  Joseph had gone to  jail for a few years because he'd been convicted of graft  in 1910 for cost overruns on the construction and furnishings. This aura of scandal only added to his mysteriousness in our eyes.

Side view Oak Cloisters

Side Door

 Then one Halloween my father, who had always had a strong interest in architecture, took us to his Studio while trick or treating.

More Side View

We trembled with fear as we approached but were also very curious. He turned out to be the nicest man you could ever wish to meet and generously donated money to our little orange UNICEF containers and gave us each an enormous chocolate bar."

Jill, ever the librarian, has also been kind enough to furnish these links

http://www2.etown.edu/docs/InstitutionalAdvancement/OaksCloisterBrochureWeb.pdf

http://mtairy.patch.com/articles/private-historic-home-in-germantown-to-host-malts-march-fundraiser

 Happy All Saints, All Souls.

The local guard cat, who saw fit to accompany me as I wandered.


Happy Halloween