Matthew Gallaway

The Stonecrop Gardens Project (Day Trips)

A few weeks ago, Stephen and I rented a car and drove to Cold Spring, New York, to visit Stonecrop Gardens. We first went to Stonecrop a few years ago, in the era before I tended to photograph everything, and ever since it has assumed a kind of magical place in my fantasies owing to the incredible array of alpines, conifers, and -- perhaps best of all -- a dawn redwood forest; in short, basically everything we've tried to reproduce on a smaller scale in our Washington Heights garden. Near the entrance (and the admission fee is only $5.00), we stopped to admire a weeping hemlock. Also appealing: these tiny succulents (Androsace sarmentosa "Chumbyi").  I'm not sure what this plant is, but I love it.  Some of the dwarf campanula was still flowering.  
Seriously, check out this lava flow of draba rigida. 
And here's some of the same stonecrop (sedum grisebachii) that we have in our garden: 


I took about ten million other pix, which I may or may not get around to posting. If you get the chance to go to Stonecrop Gardens, don't pass it up. 

The Columnar Pin Oak Project (Acorn Season)

Most of the trees on the block have just started to change color, showing a few streaks of yellow or maybe a slightly translucent green.  Our pin oaks have had a good summer, and unlike some of our other trees in the backyard seem to be in great shape (knock on wood, ha).  I'm hoping that we won't see another October snowstorm this year, which last year had the oaks bent in half, so that I kept having to go out and shake them free. 
Because cities are essentially an artificial landscape, everything we bring into them -- from trees to pets to even ourselves -- requires a bit more maintenance than might be necessary in the wild. 
One of our cats, for example, just had to go get his teeth cleaned because he had a cavity. The trees require fertilizer and water and sometimes pesticide (ideally an organic variety) when they are attacked by pests or get sick.  But when everyone's healthy and happy, they will reward you with gifts both small and large. 

When Cats Hide in the Garden (Hidden Cats)

Can you find the cat in this picture? Here's a clue: she's black and white. Is someone there? I thought I was alone out here. Umm, guess what. You're not alone. 
I feel oddly nervous today, as if I'm being watched.  
There's no way Dante can see me behind this tree trunk. 
It's strange how that water is burbling up in the shape of a cat. 

The City Streets Project (Times Square)

I told my brother that I would pick him and my sister-in-law up at their hotel in the middle of Times Square.  A lot of New Yorkers -- including myself, circa ten years ago -- like to dismiss Times Square as "tourist central," but I enjoy it. There's something to be said for being in a part of the city that feels very unpretentious -- there are no hipsters in Times Square -- and for this reason oddly democratic. All of the advertising cancels each other out and becomes a kind of white noise, a backdrop for this meeting point of people from all over the world who have come to gawk at each other. 
I'm not saying I would necessarily want to spent eight hours a day in Times Square.  Or that part of me doesn't feel nostalgic for the old Times Square, which was undoubtedly seedier and more dangerous, a place that resonated with petty crime and illicit desire, a place where non-heterosexuals and drug addicts lurked in doorways, their eyes filled with haunted disdain for the larger society that shunned them. But those days are gone. We are in the era of smart phones and LCD billboards. 
The freaks are more conspicuous and theatrical; they are conscious of their status as street performers or entertainers. 
Or, well, most of them. 

The Late September Garden (Ground Cover Revolution)

I'm going to be sad in a few weeks when it's too dark to say hello to the ground covers when I get home from work. 
But for now I'm trying to enjoy the garden and its late-blooming toad lily.
But let's be real: ground cover is the best, and this has been a record year in our garden for it, which is great, because it's one of my favorite things. I could stare at it for hours. 
"Who said that? Was it the ground cover?" -- Elektra
The leaves are starting to fall, which is to be expected.

The City Streets Project (Washington Heights)

Everything looks especially good in the setting sun.  The cracks and chips disappear, and -- hey! -- there's an eagle on the rooftop. 
This street was built 100 years ago, and now it's being rebuilt.  The fire station could use a cleaning. 
So could the apartment buildings across the street.  On the other hand, these buildings aren't going anywhere, so there's no hurry. 

The City Streets Project (Fifth Avenue)

Today after work I went to meet a friend, which meant that I turned south on Fifth Avenue and 34th Street at the Empire State Building. I stopped to take some pictures and a guy behind me ran into me. He probably thought I was tourist, which in a way, I was. I love the way the angled late-afternoon light mottles the side of the buildings in midtown. 
Even if the streets are now getting dark earlier and earlier.  If you're ten stories tall, you get to enjoy the sun longer than most people. 
I wondered what this building was called.  "Does anyone know what country the flag belongs to? It seems vaguely familiar but I couldn't quite place it." -- Citizen of the United States of MicroGoogle in the year 2312.
I belong to the religion of azure skies and translucent clouds.   

The Uptown Rooftop Project (Washington Heights)

This morning I went up to the roof to clean the gutters. It was a prefect day for it -- cool and blue -- and the buildings basked in the sun.  T

I cleaned the gutter on the upper roof and then I went to the one below. 

The rooftops are a different city than the one we usually see, and make us long for a world we don't already know. 

Cats in the Garden (The Groundcover Revolution)

It's starting to get too dark to take the cats out for a walk after work, which means we have to make up for lost time on the weekends.  "I want a daily walk." -- Dante
The garden this year had its ups and downs: we lost a few trees and shrubs, and a few more are on life support, but the groundcovers have done well.  "I'm ready to go inside now."  -- Elektra
"I'm still ready."  -- ElektraHere's Zephyr sitting at the lookout known as "Point Flying Snake."
"Flying snakes know better than to land." -- Zephyr 
"I wish the presidential election were being held tomorrow so that we could stop worrying about it." -- Zephyr "I seriously might run for office in 2016." -- Dante
"My platform to encourage all the groundcovers to run wild, so that we can relax in them as much as possible before the light fades." -- Dante

Let's Take a Walk Down to Fairway Part II (Parks)

The precisely arranged alleys of trees and sandy soil reminded me of parks in Paris.  The asters obliterated all thoughts of anything but the asters, however.  (I think they're asters, anyway: oops, I mean anemones!)The flowering clumps of grass did not hold quite as much interest, which is not to say the flowers lacked appeal. We can't all be brilliant all of the time, as all plants understand. 
Hungry and tired from our walk, we decided to head into Fairway and try some of their prepared foods. As much as I admire Fairway, I can't recommend the prepared foods, and especially the sushi :(
Aching and bloated, we tried to console ourselves by watching the grass bend in the wind. 
We decided to walk home on Broadway. On the way up the hill, we passed one of the many storage facilities that will soon be devoured by the new Columbia campus. The city is constantly mutating, as the nearby cranes seemed to attest.