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A Pleasant Hot Day |
Waves of long green leaves tumbled down to the arbor path on both sides. Leaving only enough room to walk single file. The blue flowers were the size of two fists put together waving on their long stems. Also giving the feel of a watery existence. The arbor was lushly covered with wisteria giving a cool feel. The pronounced smell of roses in my mind was turned into the smell of brine. It was joyful to walk down this path parting the waters like Mosses. The illusion and contrast momentarily was taking my mind off the extreme heat of the day.
The radio the night before had warned it would be the hottest day of the week. It had been a hot week. A little hotter was not a good sign for walking beautiful gardens. It was the Museums we wanted to see, especially the Photograph Exhibit of Edward Weston. I envisioned a long over powering hot walk to the outlying buildings.
The day was everything that was promised, HOT. But large gardens have their surprises. After a short hot walk we came to a crossroads. Dusty paths in four directions and a little trail to the left goes the way we need to go. It leads us under a canopy of trees. It is cooler and gives the feel of damp. We are not aware of the dusty road to one side and the grass area to the other. A short branching path gives us a vista of a large carved fountain in an expanse of green. Its gurgling sound and splashing water give the allusion of cool. We keep walking to the promise of an air-conditioned building. We are disappointed when the shade of the canopy runs out way before the Building is reached. There is a big tree not to far off with an empty bench under it. We gratefully sit in the shade to contemplate the brilliant glare of the sand stone building. It's stately pillars made it look like a temple of cool air.
When you go from a hot place to a cold place your body tends to boil over like a car. The photos were so interesting I didn't notice this effect. In Edward Weston's early years he photographed things up close. His photos are so simple that a bell pepper for a moment looks like maybe something a bit obscene. It was interesting how a black and white close up of an every day object can be so different looking. There was the locked door of the church in Hornitos. Not to long ago I had gone by this church on a car trip. The church was inaccessible in both instances. The picture that brought the itchy feeling of the start of tears was Mono Lake. It was taken from the waters edge up the banks to see the pine trees beyond. It is a desert now. Those trees are gone. The great masses of LA have raped the land of its water so nothing grows there any more. The briny waters are still the breeding grounds for seagulls, but not the trees and creatures that use to live among and off there green foliage.
We left the temple of cool purified air feeling a bit changed. The tree again beckoned. We choose the cool grass to lie in this time. Our bench was occupied. We reflected to the clang of rivet to steel girder. They were adding a research center to the Huntington Library. It has always seemed odd how the extensive gardens and small galleries scattered about were a library. Oh, it is a library of antique books. Scholars from hither and yon come to examine the stacks in the volts behind bolted doors with guards. It is not a place for the public. I get up to find a mildew mark on my bottom. Harold seems a bit concerned. I yank down my tunic to cover it. He seems satisfied. I notice more mildew speckled bottoms through out the day.
On our way to refreshment we wandered through small-enclosed gardens and our favorite room of Craftsman furniture. The day seemed to call for an iced drink with plenty of ice floating in it. I choose fresh squeezed lemonade. Iced tea was a close second. Watermelon from the cooler caught my eye. The lady at the check out register was jolly but pink cheeked. The door behind her opening and closing all day had left the little room warm. It was even warmer outside under the pergola. As I was eating my watermelon I could smell the faint order of fertilizer and things growing. It was an interesting combination, not at all unpleasant just different. The heat had made us sleepy. I dipped a clean paper napkin in Harold's iced water and pressed it to the back of my neck. He did the same. It revived us enough to continue our trek.
We looked down on the Japanese Gardens in the canyon and remembered the koi in the ponds and the Zen Garden behind the decorative fence from past visits. We knew that the walk back up the canyon paths no matter how lovely would be too much in the heat. We settled on watching children play in the sprinkler on one of the large expanses of lawn. By now all the benches under trees were full to over flowing of resting people. A breeze blows up our backs and cools the sweat in my hair. It's a nice feeling. It was time to go home when a tiny sparkling fountain in a tiny shaded garden was a hot place to be. The tree our car was parked under had done its job. When we open the doors a blast furnace of hot air did not hit us in the face. We climbed in and started the car air-conditioner for the short trip home and a nap.