A walk around my hood, which I'd estimate ranges from about 3 to 6 blocks in each direction, revealed that spring is taking hold, in advance of March 21st, its official springboard. Above, primroses on Pacific above Court Street at the carriage house with the beautiful, subdued-turquoise door.
Now, about neighborhoods. How big is your hood? I measure mine by unconscious borders that acquire street names when I think about it. To the east, towards Boerum Hill, I cross Court Street and I'm in a lower hood, I cross Smith, and I'm still in the hood but an extended one. Cross Hoyt and I'm in deeply familiar territory but it is not really mine anymore. To the north and Brooklyn Heights, it is Atlantic Avenue, then Montague, then the Brooklyn Bridge. To the south, and Carrol Gardens, Union Street, then the BQE. West, only the BQE in its thundering eight lane trench before you hit the wharfs, Columbia Street and water. This is because we walk everywhere. If you drive, is your hood bigger?
Witch hazel on Pacific below Hoyt.
The beautiful camellia on Pacific below Henry.
Below. Argh! What happened!? This was one of my favourite brownstone gardens on Amity Street. No one gardened actively there, but red roses grew up the steps and flowered at the same time as the old fashioned orange daylilies that dominated the patch, making an explosion of June colour. Then last year I noticed a young man actually gardening. He pulled out some day lilies, planted variegated hostas and catnip, side by side, behind the forward daylilies which would hide them, and then spread mulch. My guess is he came from a suburb with trimmed hedges, where the art is one of taming the Landscape. Now this. The sprawling rambling roses have been cut to the base. They are stumps at the foot of those trellises.What was he thinking?
Time for a note under the door. I must know.
Below. What was.