Virginia is for (Flower) Lovers

7 May

Having a college student in Virginia means having a good excuse to visit the Lewis Ginter Botanical Garden. A previous visit was bittersweet; a recent one this past weekend was just sweet. I love spring, and flowers, and being outside on a glorious day. Here are a few of the horticultural (and aquatic) sights that significantly increased my happiness quotient last Saturday.


                                                            Moth Orchid

  
                          Tulip                                                             African Daisy

  
                       Moth Orchid                                                        Tulip


The turtle’s shell is the pond’s equivalent of a lunch counter, providing fish with a nice algae snack.

A Trio of Tulips…and Some Tea

3 May

Last weekend, I was lucky enough to go on the White House’s Spring Garden Tour with a good friend. There were tulips everywhere, but these striking red ones caught my eye, probably because they were past the first flush of youth yet managed to look so elegant in their decay. I won’t dwell on the philosophical ramifications of that–but I will dub them ‘Norma Desmond’ tulips since I don’t know what type they actually are.

 

Aside from tulips , there are commemorative trees throughout the gardens, planted by various presidents and first ladies. The oldest are two huge Southern Magnolias that have been flanking the South Portico of the White House since 1830, when Andrew Jackson planted them (see glimpses of both trees, plus some wisteria, below):

WH4  WH3
The Rose Garden adjacent to the West Wing was in view, but was off limits–we were able to get a bit closer to Michelle Obama’s Kitchen Garden:

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And of course, there is the spectacular view from the White House of the Washington Monument and the Jefferson Memorial.

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Could the day get any better? Why yes, it could. Because the Willard Hotel, renown for its afternoon tea, is right around the corner, and they seated us despite our not having any reservations. The Willard’s ‘Peacock Alley’ afternoon tea venue is below:

Tea
And here is the sandwich part of our tea–a very small part of the overall meal, which also included two kinds of scones, four types of pastries, and chocolate mousse. And a pot of tea.

Willard
Flowers, tea, and friendship. A great day all around.

Weekly Photo Challenge: Motion

25 Apr

When I saw the theme of this week’s photo challenge–Motion–I immediately thought of this photo of a bird in silhouette, at just the moment it was taking flight. I happened upon the bird unexpectedly and managed to take only one photo before it flew off. I’m still not sure what type of bird it even was. But I like that this photo captures that split second before the bird became airborne.

How to Eat a Cherimoya (Chirimoya)

15 Apr

It’s really simple–cut it in half, and eat it with a spoon. That’s how my Bolivian grandmother (who adored this creamy Andean fruit) ate it–delicately scooping out the seeds she encountered, and then savoring small spoonfuls of the custard-like flesh. I also love cherimoyas (or as I grew up calling them: chirimoyas), though I only ever ate them in Bolivia as they were impossible to find in the United States. But that has been changing, to the point that last week, they appeared  in the “exotic” fruit section of my local grocery store. What a treat! I took some home, let them soften up a bit (they should be quite soft to the touch, but not completely mushy), and then dug in. Yum…. Mark Twain considered cherimoyas the most delicious fruit ever (having tasted them in Hawaii, after they were introduced there via Spain and Portugal)–and I’d have to agree. But don’t be tempted to bite into a seed; the insides are toxic.

This fruit is also known as a Custard Apple, and I get the “custard” part, but can’t figure out the “apple” part; perhaps it’s due to the shape? Because a cherimoya doesn’t taste anything like an apple. What it does taste like is an entire tropical fruit salad pureed into a silky, sweet, tangy custard. It’s a vitamin-rich (B6 and C) dessert in its own green cup. One day I may be tempted to make a cherimoya flan, or some cherimoya ice cream, or perhaps a cherimoya smoothie, but it’s hard to mess with perfection. Really, all you need is a spoon.

  

The Eclectic Rock Creek Cemetery

12 Apr

Yesterday was a glorious spring day, so naturally I headed to a cemetery. I’d never been to Rock Creek Cemetery (which, while Washington DC’s oldest cemetery, is not actually in Rock Creek Park), but now I will certainly return. A number of local  and national luminaries are buried here–in cemetery speak, they are called “residents”: President Roosevelt’s daughter Alice, author Upton Sinclair, members of the Alexander Graham Bell family, Edgar Allen Poe’s sister Rosalie, Civil War generals and Cabinet members, newspaper founders and publishers, etc. The star attractions are all the monuments, memorials, and mausoleums, with classic and more modern sculptures (including the famous Adams Memorial sculpture in bronze by Augustus Saint-Gaudens) and beautiful decorative carvings and scrollwork. Here are some of the things that caught my eye (additional photos here):

The facade of the Cragin Mausoleum, with  lion-head door handles and an unusual offering at the bottom right of the door: an empty bottle of Patron tequila.
  

Paul Tully’s grave –with sculpted chair, newspaper, and coffee cups. Paul Tully was political director of the Democratic National Committee and a strategist for Bill Clinton’s first presidential campaign–he died at age 48. The newspaper on the chair (New York Times) shows a major milestone for the Clinton campaign, and was published shortly after Tully’s death.
  

The Houser Monument, beautifully situated under a magnolia tree; Close-up of Adams Memorial sculpture.
  

One of the cemetery’s Star Magnolias in bloom.

Scrollwork on mausoleum windows and doors.
  

View of stained-glass window inside the Slater Mausoleum, shot through scroll work on glass door.

Thompson-Harding Monument; view of the Thompson side.
  

Birds or Bananas? Strelitzia, Musa, and Heliconia

8 Apr

Is it a bird or a banana? When it comes to Bird of Paradise, False Bird of Paradise, Parrot or Parakeet Flower, Macaw Flower, Crane Flower, Banana, Wild Banana, or Wild Plantain–it can be hard to tell which is which. That’s because these tropical plants belong to three closely related families: Strelitiziaceae, Musaceae, and Heliconiaceae. And yes, some look like birds, others look like banana plants, and some actually are banana plants.

Though common plant names can be endearingly whimsical and creative, they often lead to confusion; many plants have multiple common names and the same common name can refer to more than one plant. Today, thanks to binomial nomenclature (and to Google and other easily accessible sources), it is fairly easy to figure out that one person’s Bird of Paradise is someone else’s Crane Flower, and that both, in fact, are the same Strelitizia reginae. 

Carl Linnaeus laid the foundations for binomial nomenclature in his 1753 Species Plantarum. According to the system, all living things must have a scientific name in Latin consisting of two basic parts. The first part identifies the genus; the second part identifies the species within the genus (if, as happened to me, the taxonomic ranks you learned in school have since retreated to the lesser-used recesses of your brain, they are: kingdom, phylum, class, order, family, genus, species.) As an example, the American Robin, a migratory bird in the thrush family, belongs to the genus Turdus (this somewhat unfortunate name means thrush in Latin…) and to the species migratorius within that genus. The European Robin, however, belongs to the genus Erithacus and to the species rubecula, which is derived from the Latin for “red.”

But back to plants that look like birds. In 1773, Sir Joseph Banks (then director of Kew Gardens) took advantage of the system of binomial nomenclature to give the exotic Bird of Paradise plant–with its orange sepals, purple petals, and beak-like spathe–its scientific name (Strelitzia reginae) in honor of Queen Charlotte of Mecklenburg-Strelitz. Queen Charlotte was the wife of King George III of England, an enthusiastic amateur botanist, and a strong supporter of Kew Gardens. The genus name Strelitzia refers to the Queen’s birthplace; the species name reginae comes from the Latin for “queen.” Strelitzia nicolai, on the other hand, refers to the Wild Banana, aka the Giant White Bird of Paradise. It received its species name in the 1800s, when two German-Russian botanists named the plant nicolai in honor of the Grand Duke Nikolai Nikolaievich, son of Czar Nicholas I of Russia. Birds or bananas–those are lofty names indeed. I’m just glad I now know which is which.


Strelitzia reginae (Bird of Paradise) aka Crane Flower in its native South Africa


Strelitzia nicolai (Giant White Bird of Paradise) aka Wild Banana–though it does not produce edible fruit.

 
Strelitzia nicolai, left; an edible banana plant in the Musaceae family, right. They look very similar when not in flower–see the leaves.

  
Heliconia psittacorum (Parakeet or Parrot Heliconia), left; Heliconia bihai (Macaw Flower), right. Heliconia are also known as False Bird of Paradise and Wild Plantains because their leaves are similar to the leaves of the Bird of Paradise and banana plants.

A Farewell to Books

29 Mar

Books1

With spring comes a desire to rouse the house and its inhabitants from hibernation, to tidy, streamline, and welcome in the new season. A charming book, The Life-Changing Magic of Tidying Up: The Japanese Art of Decluttering and Organizing, suggests a new way to shed things. As motivating as the book is, however, we did not follow the recommended order of starting with less emotionally charged objects such as clothes (which we have been shedding for a while now—metaphorically speaking; our decluttering efforts have not yet turned us into nudists). Instead, we headed straight to a particularly difficult category: books.

For as long as I can remember, I’ve been surrounded by books. I grew up with two avid readers as parents, and remember with great pride the moment—when I was about 6 or  7—that my father cleared an entire shelf for me and said that was where I could store my own books. My father could never understand why anyone would want a pair of designer jeans (with someone else’s name on the bottom?), but books were always an acceptable purchase. So I, too, became an avid reader. I would lay a towel along the bottom of my bedroom door at night so there wouldn’t be any light shining through to alert my parents of my nocturnal, page-turning activities. In hindsight, I’m sure  I wasn’t fooling anyone, but my parents never said a word.

When I was in elementary school, I loved Little House on the Prairie, Nancy Drew, Encyclopedia Brown, the Great Brain, the Chronicles of Narnia, and any books about horses and dogs. In 8th grade, I went through a very serious Agatha Christie phase (I still have all 60+ of her mysteries), and in high school I had a friendly competition with my lab partner as to who could read the most classics (American, British, Russian—most gleaned from my parents’ shelves). When I went off to college, I added Latin American, African, and Indian authors to my reading repertoire, but I was an equal-opportunity reader; I enjoyed all sorts of fiction.

I kept the books I read, taking them with me every time I moved. I brought books to my marriage and my husband contributed his own as well; I married a fellow reader. In the course of our marriage, we have moved 10 times and have lived on four continents, and with one exception (a 6-month stint in Rome), we took our books with us each time. When we started having children, we bought them books as well. We may have been on a strict graduate-student budget, but that budget included books.

So, over the years, we ended up with quite a collection: classics from ages ago and newer fiction, cookbooks and gardening books, young adult books and “grandchildren books”—the books our kids loved so much when they were young that we set them aside and kept them for future grandchildren. We have bookshelves on every floor of our house.

But we have come to realize those books represent another era. The kids are unlikely to load up their suitcases with books on each return trip home. And my husband and I now read most of our books digitally; I read The Life-Changing Magic of Tidying Up: The Japanese Art of Decluttering and Organizing on my iPad. Today, we admitted that the physical books that have been part of our lives for so long have served their purpose. They brought us great joy, but it is time to see if they can bring joy to others as well. So we went through all our bookshelves and took 75% of the books we once owned to our local library.

Books2
It was a process tinged with denial: “I know I haven’t read that book in 25 years but now that I see it again, perhaps I should reread it; I’m certain that by now I’ve forgotten the plot.”  Or: “This was one of the best books I ever read. And so was this one. And that one. Oh, this one here was fabulous–what great writing; I really must reread that one and take note of some of the beautiful phrases the author employed, which I always meant to do.” Except I know I won’t. So we were ruthless. And now many shelves’ worth of books are gone–old friends following the children out of the house. Life-changing perhaps, but a bit sad, too.

Books3

Postcard from Alcatraz: Part I

28 Mar

If you are like me, most of what you know about Alcatraz may have come from movies depicting the island when it was home to a federal penitentiary (1933-1963)–with prisoners such as Al “Scarface” Capone and Robert “Birdman” Stroud, and a couple daring escapes with escapees never seen again. In the famous 1962 escape, three prisoners chiseled through cell walls with spoons, made papier-mache heads to put in their beds, crawled up through vent shafts and across the island, and launched rafts made from rain coats. Did they make it to land, or did the cold waters of San Francisco Bay do them in?  No one knows–but the case remains open until the three escapees (Frank Morris–played by Clint Eastwood in Escape from Alcatraz, John Anglin, and Clarence Anglin) reach their 100th birthdays.

Though the island’s 30-year history as a federal penitentiary looms large, it was also home to a Civil War fortress and the first lighthouse on the West Coast, and was occupied very briefly in 1964 and then from 1969-1971 by a group of American Indians to bring Indian rights issues to the attention of the government and the public. Today, Alcatraz is run by the National Park Service and–as I will mention in Part II–has lovely gardens and is a favored nesting spot for sea birds. So if you like history, scenic views of San Francisco Bay, and lots of natural beauty, Alcatraz offers all three.


The Rock

  
(from l to r): Ruins of the Officers’ Club, Power House; Lighthouse


Standard-issue shaving supplies for prisoners

  
Cell toilet and sink; prison railing with many layers of paint


Sign, with painted additions from American Indian occupation


View of Golden Gate Bridge from Alcatraz Island

 

An Unexpected and (Re)Productive Study of the California Poppy

21 Mar

Sometimes, blown car tires lead to unexpected opportunities. While in California on our way to Monterey, our tire blew out on the freeway and very spectacularly separated itself from the rim. Our oldest son was driving and successfully steered the car to the side of the road, with the help of a kind truck driver, who stopped traffic in the right lane to let us over. While the spare tire was being put on, I noticed a cheery patch of poppies down a small hill, and headed there with my camera, whereupon I had an impromptu lesson in reproduction–of the floral kind.

The Golden State loves golden symbols, so it’s no surprise the California Poppy is the state flower. It’s a favorite of many gardeners, but also grows wild across California and elsewhere; masses of poppies make some Western mountains look as if they have been dusted with orange-yellow confetti. They also grow by the roadside, where I was lucky enough to get to study them for a little while. In that scraggly patch, there were poppies at all stages of development, from buds to full flowers, to seed pods.


The flower buds are encased in a calyx made up of two fused sepals; the papery cap slowly gets pushed off as the four overlapping poppy petals begin to unfurl.

  
Inside the cup-shaped flower itself are the stamens (pollen-tipped male reproductive organs) and the pistil (female organ), waiting for pollinators–usually bees, but also beetles and flies–to help ensure a new generation of Eschscholzia californica. This is the plant’s  very civilized (and somewhat passive) Plan A in terms of reproduction.


But, there’s a Plan B, too–and it’s a bit more lively. Once the poppy’s main flowering cycle comes to an end, the petals start dropping off, revealing an elongated seed pod (fruit) sitting on the disk-like torus. The pod gets longer and bigger, starts drying up in the sun, and finally bursts open, ejecting seeds as far as 6 feet away. This type of seed dispersal has a great name: explosive dehiscence.  Oh, how I wish I could have seen it in action.

  
So, what pollinators cannot achieve, the plant takes care of on its own, spreading its wealth just a bit further one seed pod at a time. Something to admire this April 6, which is California Poppy day.

 

Landscapes from a Moving Car, Part II: California

19 Mar

One nice thing about road trips is that along scenic stretches, a car is a mobile room with a view. But when a long day of driving is on the agenda, it’s hard to stop and admire every lovely landscape. So I put my camera on Sports/Action mode, aim it through the window as we are whizzing by, and hope some of the resulting photos turn out. (Of course, I only do this when I am a passenger, not the driver…).  Here are some shots from a recent road trip from Northern to Southern California, and back.


Old farm buildings near Gilroy


Foggy morning landscape near Gilroy


Mountain landscape with wildflowers near Gilroy

  
Plowed earth near Monterey                     Mountain and clouds near Grapevine


Red barn building near Castroville


Northern California sunset