This morning the sky was clear for a few hours, except for a low band of clouds, creating the illusion of a distant mountain range.
Because I've been fighting off a cold for the past few days, I decided to call in sick to work and stay home. Mostly this means that instead of going to midtown and looking at a computer screen all day, I can stay in the apartment and look at a computer screen all day, although it's much easier to take naps and rest. It's really almost impossible to imagine what life was like before computers and the internet at this point, although I suppose it's something that I'd like to try out at some point.
Although Stephen had to go in to work, the cats were all here to keep me company.
Around three o'clock I went across the street to check on the house.
On Broadway, a crew of workers were putting up scaffolding, which in the past used to give me a jolt of adrenaline -- 'maybe they're going to fix up the building!' I would think -- but I've learned to temper this optimism, knowing that it generally results in no perceptible improvement.
I did feel a surge of satisfaction, however, when I arrived at the house and found that the garbage and recycling bags that I had put out on the curb had finally been taken away; to live in Washington Heights, I've learned, is to take what you can get with regard to many things -- e.g., garbage pickup -- that I expect others take for granted.
Inside, I found the lady palm adjusting nicely to its new home.
While at the other end of the house, the ponytail palm seemed equally content.
In the garden I listened to the constant drip of melting snow and admired the way the snow melted around the tree trunks, as if the plants were warm-blooded creatures.
The weeping Serbian spruce seems to be holding up nicely this winter.
While the tree peonies are clearly ready for spring.
As are the azaleas.
Back on the street, I considered a building on the corner of Broadway and felt that with a simple cleaning, it could be restored to its past grandeur.
"...except for a low band of clouds, creating the illusion of a distant mountain range."
How often have I had that same thought, living here in mountainless Louisiana. It usually reminds me of the title of the book The Far Pavilions, which according to my mother (who read it when I was a teenager) was what people in India called distant mountains.
Posted by: Robert | 02/19/2010 at 04:57 PM
Thanks, Robert -- lovely image of the pavilions!
Posted by: Matthew Gallaway | 02/19/2010 at 04:59 PM