Category Archives: local haunts

wednesday morning in the garden

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My photos of the garden this week include a few from Saturday morning as well. I was lucky to get a visit from a dear college friend over the weekend – she was in town for a job site visit on Friday, and so we were able to go out to dinner at the wine bar around the corner that evening. Saturday morning we woke up early, grabbed coffee and tea, and walked around the garden for about an hour before we headed to the farmers market to grab some breakfast and flowers.

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Saturday was sunny and pleasant, and all around lovely for a mid-October day. It’s nice to see your city through someone else’s eyes – especially the eyes of another architect. She’s building her own new home in Atlanta, and I showed her the progress on our project, and promised her the next time she comes to visit she’ll get a whole suite to herself!

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Wednesday was overcast, cooler, and threatening rain – but it held off until after our walk. The air was clean and crisp, and the temperatures now are really perfect. Jacket weather, not too cold.

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She requested the secret paths again, but we ended up running into a friend and winding through the paths a different way. (My goal is to secretly win over everyone to these golden garden hours, one person at a time. I get very excited when I see my plan working!)

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The beds are being emptied, turned over and ready for hardier plantings. I’m never sad to see this in progress – it’s like a fresh slate, and we notice the patterns and the structure of the various gardens in these interim moments.

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There is still color, and green. There is brick everywhere, and it’s set off by the greens and the muted sky and light. My friend kept remarking on all the brick in this city, and it is remarkable. We forget it sometimes, living here and seeing it everyday.

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That’s why it’s good to walk the same paths with new people. Or just a new season or new perspective. There is always something you haven’t seen before, and so often it’s really beautiful.

wednesday morning in the garden

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She requested a return to the paths we walked last week, so we headed straight back to the woodland garden. I think I overcompensated this week for my dead camera battery last week – I took dozens of photos as we walked.

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This morning was a study in animal behavior, as well as a primer on how many things can be hurled from the trees to the walkways below.

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I think I took a dozen photographs of her trying to spot the culprits above us in her Matilda-like stance she frequently assumes.

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After the woodland garden, we went to the “deer garden” (as she calls it), because there are layers upon layers of hidden paths. The wildflowers are so delicate, and tiny. I love the scale of them, and looking for little bits of color among the green.

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Our last stop on the way out was one of my favorite tucked-away garden spots – I love it because it’s always full of such vibrant colors. It didn’t disappoint this morning.

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She can always talk me into a slight detour through the Chinese garden, then we talked to a friend, ran our fingers through a fountain, and scurried off to school. Her apple cider was still warm in the car; she knows to ask for whipped cream on top because it tastes like apple pie a la mode. I finish the last few sips after she walks into school, and they really are delicious.

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wednesday morning in the garden

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Well, it arrived, and it’s lovely.

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It was chilly enough this morning to put on a jacket and sweater before we headed out. I took about eight photos before my battery gave up the fight. We walked to the right this morning, past the sheep and through the newly restored prairie garden (prairie area, because we like rhymes).

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Our first plan for the morning was to find signs of fall, so we liked the start of red on the trees and the still-tightly bound mums. But by the time we got the back of the demonstration gardens, we were laughing because our signs of fall were all the empty beds where the summer flowers had been removed. We walked out to the main sidewalk again, and had to decide on the rest of our route.

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We decided we’d try to take the unbeaten paths as much as possible, so we wound our way through the woodland areas on the stepping stones, and played hopscotch on the pavers by the mausoleum. 

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She groans and complains every Wednesday morning when I force her out of bed a few minutes earlier and rush her through the routine. When we rounded the last corner back to the entrance, she told me this morning was “the best walk ever”, and I believe her.