Bleep Paris.Above, Callery Pear on Atlantic Avenue.
Apricot in the bright park of Long Island College Hospital. It actually makes apricots in the early summer. For these delicate, fragile blooms, I (almost) forgive the LICH-sponsored Saturday leaf blowers whose noise pollution tears through the weekend late morning bowl of coffee. Don't nobody rake no more???
Aching white and apple green. The quince on the corner of Henry and Atlantic. I vow to plant some quinces on terraces this year. But my passion for them (my dad hates it when people say they have passions...good thing he doesn't know where the On button is) might be a solitary one.
From the luscious petals in the pictures you'd think this is a great big, fat tree.
It's not. Shame.
Oh, how I miss those Callery Pear trees. Among other things. :)
ReplyDeleteI'm with you! Once on the ##!%^&*@!! leaf blowers and oh YES! on the quinces. What's not to like? That blossom,those leaves the fruit that doesn't try to be a phony good-looker and let's not forget all the delicious things one can do with the fruit.
ReplyDeleteDamn! Now I want stewed quince with coconut crumble.
Ahh, April in Brooklyn -that famous ol' song. I can hear Billy singing it right now.
ReplyDeleteI raked the other day and I found many a wet cat turd. Wish I blew it from me, not raked it toward me!
I imagine the Callery pears miss you, too, Jen!
ReplyDeleteDinah - yes, I LOVE the fruit. And the scent of the fruit...what poet kept a quince in his writing drawer for inspiration?
Frank - blegh!
So have you ever taken Amtrack to Wave Hill?