Last Sunday I took the opportunity presented by a free afternoon and went over to the University Arboretum and Japan House. I forgot my hat and quickly grew hot, tired, and sweaty, so I pressed the shutter too many times; finally, a strong composition jumped out at me when I got to the front door of Japan House:
Until recently I’ve never been partial to any flowers, probably because we didn’t garden in my parents’ house when I was growing up. As if to compensate for this lack in my childhood, my wife and I bought a house with crocuses, daffodils, peonies, and daylilies all scattered across the property. I’ve observed their behavior closely over the last five years, and the daylilies have become my favorite: they are spectacular, diverse in color, and last only for a day. They’ve become a symbol of brevity and impermanence for me, and it was pure luck to find this last blossom bidding farewell to the glory days of summer.
Up next: major gear shift, in more than one sense of the word “gear.”