Of Snowballs

See that snow-covered little tree next to the already white arbor?  That's my favorite plant.  That's why it's next to the back gate.  It's my personal welcome home every day and the last thing I see whenever I leave.  It's hard to see in this picture, between the snow, the fence and the trees across the street.  But trust me, it's special.  And what is it, you might be asking.  I'll tell you.

It's Viburnum Macrocephalum.  It's a deciduous shrub (in my area) that can grow to ten feet.  It doesn't mind shade and it blooms in the spring.  The viburnum family is pretty large and I like a lot of them.  I have two others, which I also am terribly fond of, but this one, Macrocephalum, is my favorite.

Common name:  Chinese Snowball.

Chinese because it is a native of China.  Snowball because in the spring, it is covered in bright white 8-inch round clusters of florets.

While out shoveling (yet again) today, I was struck by the humor or perhaps, irony, of my snowball bush up to its midsection in snow.  In a more typical March, I'd soon be noticing that the flower buds, that had already formed last year, beginning to swell, change color from dark to pale green to bright white.  It's stunning in full bloom.  I've actually had people come up to me when I'm out working in the garden to talk about it, admire it, ask for cuttings to take home.  Even though they aren't a suitable cut flower and it kills me to do it, I do share.  It's nice.  Someone knocked on my door once to tell me how much she loved seeing my Snowball in bloom--it reminded her of her grandmother's house.

An aside ... this is one of the benefits of living "downtown" and close to the street ... people interactions and chance conversations.

There was a Snowball in my Mom's garden at our first house in Windsor.  It was in a corner of the perennial borders that outlined our backyard.  Because it's such a large shrub with more of a tree-like shape to it, I remember I used to squeeze in behind it, hiding out (or so I thought) between the branches and the fence.  It was my little hiding spot.  In the spring, when the air is slightly damp and heady with all sorts of fragrances from spring blooms to fresh mulch, there was nowhere else I'd rather be than out in our backyard.  I remember once as my Mom was making her way around the garden doing the constant chores that all gardeners are familiar with, she shook the branches and the Snowball actually "snowed" its flowers down all around and on me.  It was entrancing ... magical.

My grandmother (from whom, I suspect, both my mom and I inherited our gardening genes) had a Snowball also.  She had a really large yard compared to her neighbors' yards and it was filled with roses, hydrangeas, vegetables and two cherry trees.  She also had a real "little house" in her backyard but that's a story for another time.  The snowball was in a side bed and somewhat overshadowed by the large old cherry trees.  Her well-established and carefully tended garden had that effortless look of having been there for ages.  My mom's place has that look too.  And maybe mine will too, one day.  It has pretty good bones.

I know this seemingly never-ending winter will, indeed, actually end one day soon.  And things will turn green again.  I will see the grass that has been hidden since early January.  And my Snowball will bloom along with the other viburnums and azaleas and peonies and daffodils and tulips and irises.  It's just a little hard to picture it today.  But I do have these to help me:

Viburnum Macrocephalum, May 24, 2014

Snowball "snow," June 4, 2014

Walk Journals: The Winter Walks

Making Tracks ...

Not so many walks this winter--weather and road conditions have been less than cooperative.  I've lost track of the number of snowstorms we've had but we've used six snowdays at school this year so there's six right there.  We stayed open during a couple snowy days and there was at least one snowy weekend.  I've had to content myself with shoveling for my workouts.  As it turns out, shoveling is counted as an activity in my Weight Watchers app (10 minutes of shoveling equals 1 point) so the hours spent clearing away light fluffy flakes, water-laden slush and shards of ice have counted for something (besides aching muscles).

But ... a few days were above 22 degrees (my bottom threshold for spending a couple hours outside) or were dry enough or had a brilliant sun that lured me out to see what my world had to offer.  

And there was plenty to see and admire and wonder about.  The Rockaway River was spectacular locked in ice in January.  With many consecutive days failing to reach over ten degrees, she had frozen in several places from shore to shore, pushing ice over the banks and encasing everything in her path in a glassy coating.  The January sunsets cast an orange and pink glow in the winter sky that failed to warm despite the flushed hues.  But they do bear the promise of warmer times to come.  These days before the huge snows were such a gift.  The paths in the parks were still passable and sidewalks were clear.



 There were a couple of nice days that allowed for walking across the highway to Indian Lake. 

It's always been amazing to me how the days really do grow longer after December 21.  I mean, I know they do but in the depths of winter, it sometimes feels like it's never going to get light again.  But every minute of light counts and the slightly longer daylit days of January also speak of the promise of spring--and allow for longer walks making visiting the lake a real possibility.  Once upon a time, there was a New Year's Day skating party on this lake (we lived a block from the little beach at the time).  The lake was frozen clear across and the day was brilliant.  I remember we skated limbo-fashion under this bridge, the entrance to Lenape Island, a tiny miniature island with maybe a dozen homes where I'd dearly love to live.  We skated for hours and hours that day.  It's one of my fondest memories of our little cottage by the lake.

Where the water from Indian Lake spills over a little dam into a lagoon, the water wasn't frozen.  These swans were captivating.  This is the first time I've seen swans in the dead of winter.  We have several different pairs that stop by in October for a few weeks on their route to their winter homes in the south and then return for a few weeks, usually in March, on their way north again.  Perhaps I've never been in the right place or maybe this is the first time a few stuck around for a New Jersey winter.

This sign has been on Franklin Road near the little beach bridge for quite a while now.  Whatever road work the town has been doing here seems to be stalled and I can't help but thinking that is a metaphor for this winter.  With all the snow and ice, there've been no end to the bumps and slow going.  Or maybe it's a metaphor for those rough, icy patches in life.  Some of the winter walks have been like that ... 

Slip sliding ...

and it's all night.*

We all have our bumps in the road and icy patches that cause us to slip and slide.  This is why I love these walks so much:  they often cause me to reflect on the evident connections that are to be made between the walking and the living, between the sights I see and the memories they trigger, between the ups and downs, the rough and the smooth going--it's obvious, I know, but that whole "journey" idea has been bubbling close to the surface the last year or two.

Before the snow got too deep, walks to the pond were possible too.  Lately, even the sidewalks that far up the road have been impassable but a few weeks ago, if I set out early enough I could make it up that far before sunset.  The pond seems so plain in this state ... no sturdy lily pads, no waving grasses, no ducks, geese, dragonflies or frogs jumping out of the danger of my footfalls.  But there is a sort of forlorn beauty in the starkness of the bare trees, the dark reflections and the encroaching ice.  

I keep thinking I need some new places to walk.  I've walked these roads and paths so often, photographed the river, the lake, the pond from almost every angle and in all types of light.  But the truth is, I love these places and visiting them in every season, in all types of weather, on sunny days and dreary ones--it all recharges me.  They're my places and are important parts of that more recent journey of the past couple of years.  I will find some new places to walk but these local spots--they'll always be my favorites.

~~~

*if you've read these pages before, you'd have guessed this is a Gavin DeGraw lyric and you'd be right:  Leading Man

Winter playlist, eclectic sampling:

Hot Chelle Rae - Don't Say Goodnight
Pharrell Williams - Happy (or if you have 24 hours to spare ... 24 hours of Happy,) 
Joey DeGraw - Miracle of the Mind

Snow Day Dancing

Make that snow days.  Two of them.

One of the few perks of working for a school is that when the weather unleashes snow and ice, the superintendent makes the difficult decision to close the district for the day.  Now, lest you think the perks of working in a public school get grander than that, let me just say that snow days are the biggest perks and you can go years without having one.  In fact, we try very hard not to have them because ultimately the biggest perk of working in a school is seeing kids grow and learn every day and knowing that you've got the privilege of helping them on the journey to becoming who they're meant to be.  But, the older I get, the more reluctant I am to drive in bad weather so I was happy not to be out in yesterday's snowstorm or to be driving on the icy roads that froze in the rain that followed the snow.

Snow days.  For me, they are a both a waste of time and a welcome break in routine in what is often the bleakest part of the winter.  I envy people who are diligent and use the "found" time to do something useful like clean closets, paint a room or catch up on paperwork.  I do none of these things.  The unsettledness of the weather unsettles me and I can't concentrate on anything other than keeping up with shoveling, cooking and eating, watching television and reading.  I rotate through these activities for the duration of the storm.  The fact that we're on day two of not-so-great weather with two to four inches of more snow predicted for tomorrow (after yesterday's fourteen inches) only made me spin my wheels a little more today.

But it's Olympic season and I love the winter Olympics.  So for the past two days I've enjoyed the men's figure skaters, all of whom were flawed but nonetheless determined this year.  There is nothing quite like figure skating ... the seemingly effortless dance across the ice that is actually the product of countless hours of practice both on and off the ice, of strength training, endurance training; the product of self-denial:  giving up school and proms for 4 AM practice sessions, giving up dates and dancing for meetings with coaches, choreographers and costume fittings.  I guess this is true of all athletes on the path to gold but figure skaters capture my imagination more than the others--probably because the combination of athleticism, grace and music are perfect together.  At least, to me they are.  It's a kind of dance--part of my New Year's resolution ... enjoy more dancing.

Days and evenings have been spent watching the hopefulness and dreams laid on the line for all to see by skaters and skiers, death defying daredevils on sleds large and small, and racers on mountains and moguls and icy ovals.

But last night and tonight there were late-night gifts to be enjoyed too.  Last night it was a new show in the current season of Live From Daryl's House, Daryl Hall's show, filmed in his home where he entertains guest musicians.  They make a little music, make a little dinner, make a whole lot of music fans very happy. 

This fan was very happy last night.  Last night's episode featured Gavin DeGraw.  The music they made together was truly astounding.  I find it completely fascinating that musicians show up at Daryl's house in upstate New York and with virtually no audience, besides the technicians and people cooking them dinner, come together to give flawless, exciting, highly enthusiastic performances.  Each (whoever the guest is--I've seen this show a time or two ...) seems to appreciate the chance to make music with a fellow talented legendary musician for just the sake of making the music.  No audience, no pressure, no meet and greets, no venues to make happy, no merch to sell.  Just musicians and their music--pure and simple.  And what results is pure joy and satisfaction--for all.

Last night's episode featured four songs written by Gavin (sweetly sexy Make A Move, anthemic Everything Will Change, sexier still Radiation and his signature, I Don't Want To Be) and two written by Daryl (Go Solo and I Want to Know You for a Long Time).   I didn't dance.  I was too transfixed with the performances.  The little glimpses of the two of them discussing the pieces and then the full-on nothing-held-back versions of well-loved (at least by fans of these two) songs.  Gavin says "Every player brings their own personality to the song" so the songs sound a little different performed with Daryl than with Gavin's own band.  Slightly different harmonies and different ways of tweaking rhythms and riffs.  It's hard to describe--it was so up close and personal.  And for some die-hard fans, me among them, the reaction was very emotional.

It was such a fresh way to see Gavin.  I've loved my concert experiences--every one of them (even the rainy ones).  Television performances are less satisfactory generally.  Guesting on Leno or Conan means coming back from commercial, throwing to the band and a performance that often ends with credits rolling over it.  This however, was up close, personal and so intimate.  Literally like being the proverbial "fly on the wall," I watched two great musicians practicing their craft so naturally, with such ease and abandon.  The emotional quality of Gavin's voice really was clearly revealed in this setting and I became completely entranced.  They were lost in the making of the music and lead the viewer into their collective reverie.  The pure enjoyment that they were obviously feeling translated completely through the television.  There is, after all, nothing sweeter than making music with your friends.  I'd nearly forgotten how beautiful that feels and how much I enjoyed the opportunity to do that when I had it (a lifetime ago).

Of course the gorgeous "Everything Will Change, " the third selection for the night, is the song that Team USA selected as its theme song for this Olympic cycle.  So there you have it--my day full circle once again.  Olympics and Gavin intertwining to shape my snow day into a special respite from the daily grind.  The cooking (gumbo), dinner and random conversations were fun--many stories that Gavin fans would already have known but still great to hear.  Their rendition of Daryl's "I Want to Know You for a Long Time" was a highlight for me.  They seemed to be improvising towards the end and playing off one another in a seamless way that spoke to their combined years of experience and professionalism.  Did I mention I was into it?  Gavin's guitar player and musical director, Billy Norris, sat in with Daryl's band and contributed largely to the amazing overall quality of the night.

Live from Daryl's House.  Go to the website and see which of your favorite singers has been to Daryl's for dinner and a jam.

Tonight Gavin's winter/spring tour begins in Biloxi.  Shortly there will be pictures, video snippets of undoubtedly poor instagram quality.  Tomorrow there might be better videos uploaded to YouTube.  Maybe someone will share the set list.  Maybe someone will tell us about the new guy on keys.  This vicarious enjoyment of every concert, several each week, has become routine.  The network of fans uploading highlights for the rest of us and each taking his or her turn when the tour rolls through his or her area is something that a lot of us anticipate.  I have a wait ahead of me before they come east.  They are detouring through Europe after the midwest.  This gives me something to look forward to while I dig myself out of drifts and wait for longer, warmer days.

So not really actual dancing (until I rewind and play Daryl's House over and over) but a dancing spirit despite the ice and snow and salt and slush.

~~~~~

Live From Daryl's House Gavin DeGraw episode

Concert Diaries Chapter 19: Winter Wonderland (a Let's December It post)

My friend Brenda is here from Colorado and we have tickets to not one, but two Gavin DeGraw concerts.  Saturday night in Wallingford, Connecticut and Sunday night, out on Long Island.  Saturday's show also features Plain White T's, Sara Bareilles, Avril Lavigne, and The Backstreet Boys.  As it turned out, it also featured a huge snow storm.

The storm had been predicted.  All week.  The original plan was to drive to Connecticut and back and then to Long Island the next day.  As the storm predictions grew worse and worse I contemplated getting a room near Wallingford.  The morning of the show, I booked it.  The weather folks had me sufficiently scared.

We set off for the Oakdale Theater in Wallingford earlier than planned because we hoped to arrive before the worst of it.  And basically we did.  Except for the last 10 miles or so when it started to really come down totally obscuring the exit ramp, resulting in my missing it.  Thank goodness for GPS.  We checked in at the hotel but didn't stop there very long.  Even though we had seats for the performance, who knew how long it would take to get to the venue.  Under normal conditions we were about 15 minutes away.  In ice and snow?

Jarlsburg on my lap.

Big decisions needed to be made.  Stop for food or not?  We hadn't even had lunch.  We had, however, packed a nice Cabernet Sauvignon, Prosecco, a variety of cheese and crackers.  We decided that would do.  We arrived in the parking lot at 4:30.  Doors were not to open until 6:30.  And thus our first blizzard tailgate happy hour was born.  Gavin fans are good at waiting.  We arrive early; we stay late.  We have our fellow fans for company and no end to the great conversations.  Time passed quickly.  (And we highly recommend the Smoking Loon Cab.)

Tim Lopez of the Plain White T's

So our seats weren't the greatest.  We stayed put for Plain White T's who were really good.  I enjoyed the folky vibe to their music and the tight harmonies.  Hey There Delilah is such a pretty song but their new single, The Giving Tree (sort of based on the book) was really heartfelt.  I could never read that book to my kids without crying and the song gave me the same feeling.

Put up your hands and surrender to me (Make A Move)

Gavin was next.  As the lights went down, we moved to the front of our section.  The storm had kept a lot of people away so we improved our sight lines slightly in the vacant seats.  The sets are on the short side when there are so many acts taking the stage.  Only seven songs but he spent three of them in the audience, one of them very close to where we were.  He sang old standard favorites (In Love With a Girl, Chariot, I Don't Want to Be, Not Over You) and a couple of songs from the new album (Make a Move and Best I Ever Had).  I think I'd have been somewhat disappointed in the brevity of the set list had I not known the best was to come the following night during a solo concert.

During Gavin's set the unthinkable happened:  fangirl dropped her camera.  Yes, I broke the lens on my new camera.  I was leaning over the railing where I'd set it down and knocked it over the edge.  It was a stupid preventable accident and I was more than annoyed with myself.  This is the last picture I took that night.  We were too far away for good iPhone photos.  (That's one above.)

When Gavin goes into the audience at a seated show, he stands on seats or the arms of the seats.  He'll walk across them while singing and when he finds just the right spot, well, some people get really lucky.  We were those people in Yonkers.  Watching him sing while balancing on the arms of the chairs while people are clutching at him made me a nervous wreck Saturday night.

Avril Lavigne was up next.  I confess I am not familiar with her and wasn't sufficiently interested to look her up or give her a listen.  She was loud and I suppose she was good but I'm the furthest thing from an expert in rock music.  I thought all the songs sounded rather alike.

Next to last was Sara Bareilles.  I think after Gavin DeGraw, she might be my favorite singer.  She and Michael Franti.  She, also, played older favorites and numbers from her new album.  I was thrilled that she sang Manhattan.  It's probably my favorite song of any she's recorded.  She sings it so ethereally and it conveys a truthfulness about life after a relationship has ended that I think everyone could relate to.  I was hoping she'd sing her beautiful Christmas song too (Love Is Christmas) but sadly, for me, she did not.  She did sing December though; it's a beautiful song too.

Last up were the Backstreet Boys.  I know I'm going to take some heat for this but I just don't see the big deal.  The radio folks spent every introduction of every other artist emphasizing BSB and I thought that was kind of rude.  These other artists never took a break; they're not "getting back together." They've been working hard for a lot of years.

There was a lot of energy on the stage when they came out.  Their choreography was--okay, truthfully, I thought it was silly looking for guys their age. They're not a "boy band" anymore.  They're dads themselves.  Someone should tell them it's okay to just sing.  I also have this question:  if there's no band on the stage and no instruments in your hands, where are the sounds of guitars and drums coming from?  Is that recorded music they're singing to?  Is that how they've always performed?  So they give a partially live performance?  They did pause and do a few acoustic songs in the middle of their set.  They played and sang sitting on stools set in a semi circle on the stage.  That was nice.  But I will go on record as the only person who's fallen asleep during the Backstreet Boys live.  I'd been up until 3 AM the night before and had driven two hours in sub optimal conditions.  Those are my excuses.

Brenda, being from Colorado, drove us back to the hotel.  Thank goodness.  She is 'way more confidant in crappy road conditions than I am.  It was after midnight and we'd still not had a proper meal all day.  We drove around the "slip sliding" roads for a while in my "skate" which was her nickname for my little red Fiesta until we found a Burger King.  I ordered more food than we needed and let's be clear:  we still never had a proper meal that day.

Tyler Hilton (another favorite)
and fast food.  It will do in a pinch.

Post concert, there's lots of rehashing to do and we did it over burgers, onion rings and assorted other fried brown food.  At 1 AM.  Pretty unhealthy but it tasted good at the time.  The new Tyler Hilton Christmas movie was on television but the signal kept going out because of the storm so I settled for writing and outlining my impressions after Brenda fell asleep.  There is no going straight to bed after having heard Gavin DeGraw.  At least not for me ... I'm just completely wound.  So I saw 3 AM for the second night in a row.

But sleep would come and so would the morning.  The best was yet to come.

~~~~~

Sara Bareilles sang December at the Paramount earlier in the week.  We would be at The Paramount the next night for Gavin DeGraw.

Not Over You at the Oakdale Theater.





Gavin's set list.


                   Sara's set list.