Thursday, August 16, 2012

Fountains of Youth

The very first fountain I ever saw
was the J. C. Nichols Memorial Fountain
on the Country Club Plaza in Kansas City, Missouri.
Words cannot describe how astonished and delighted I was
as my dad drove us down Main Street to 47th where the fountain was located.
I'll never forget those rushing arches of water
and the equestrian bronzes in full gallop
seemingly racing out from the splashing water.

Here's a great page with some of the fountain's back story.
People who think they know the JC Nichols Fountain will want to read this:

http://www.mackayhistory.com/JCNicholsFountain.html

Here in the Shire, we've nothing quite so grand as Kansas City,
which rightly describes itself as the "city of fountains."
Here we have a number of commercial "spouting" fountains,
usually centered in former  borrow pits
transformed into duck ponds after construction.
Not that I'm complaining; I love all fountains
--even water fountains, whimsically called "bubblers"
 in the flatlands of southeastern Wisconsin.

There is a duck pond near our house and I get the same sense of wonder
when I drive by and see its fountain,
which is sometimes shooting up more than one story,
and other times much less robust. Here it is in a waning period:


And here is a 20-second video of it splashing:


Not far from here, there is a massive fountain that I like
decorating a shopping area:
I enjoy going to that shopping center for dinner
and then taking a stroll over to the fountain.

Closer to home,
we have a small fountain that we are quite fond of.
Nothing says it's summer like having dinner al fresco
while a cheerful fountain bubbles and trickles in the background.

Here's our pineapple fountain from the Summer of 2009:

I re-painted it and waxed it last fall,
but the overall effect is less pleasing to me than that of  its original condition.
However, this 20-second video shows
the pineapple fountain still has a charming gurgle which lifts the spirits,
making one feel light and youthful:


Finally, I don't think I could conclude this discussion of fountains
without mentioning that a few years ago,
my sisters and I visited Ponce de Leon's Fountain of Youth
in St. Augustine, Florida.
Given my love of fountains, I was very excited to visit.
Yet, nothing prepared me for the foul smell of sulphur
that bubbled up from that mythical "fountain" under the rocks.
Oh, my. It was memorable.
All the visitors were given tiny paper cups of the water from the Fountain of Youth,
but I could only take a couple of sips of that sulphuric tonic.
Some would say that means I'll never be forever young, but here's what I know:
One doesn't need to drink from a magic fountain to retain youthful vitality.
Just listening to water bubble and spill over a summer evening restores one's soul.
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Wednesday, August 15, 2012

This Idea Just Came to Me

Yesterday morning dawned with the promise of 
our second dry and sunny day in a row.
So I was tidying our sopping wet deck 
in anticipation of being able to finally enjoy my coffee outside  
where I could hear the trickling fountain and the call of the birds. 

With all of the rain that's fallen here in Tidewater this summer,
 everything on the deck has been over-decorated 
with countless pine needles and fallen leaves.
My beautiful flowers are quite water logged 
and there are more dropped yellow leaves 
and bruised blossoms than I care to think about.

So as I set about cleaning off the tables and chairs,
I also wondered what I could write about for today.
Frankly, I couldn't think of anything that interested me.
But when this happens, I always say to myself:  an idea will come up.
And it did.
But this time, the idea didn't come up,
it came down instead.

I picked up the chair cushions 
that had been rushed under the umbrella the last time it rained
and gave them a couple of shakes.
Suddenly, something definitely organic and fleshy went plop onto the table.
I investigated, of course.
And here is the little tree frog I roused out of his sleep:

These tree frogs primarily enjoy lolling between the plastic liners and the garden pots,
or down inside the planter boxes because those are cool, moist spots.
But they also like to attach themselves to the grill's vinyl cover 
because it makes a sun-less hiding place 
when the grill is pushed against the wall.

And in all these places, the tree frog changes its color like a chameleon.
He's charcoal black in the above photo 
because he was sleeping on the wide black stripe in the chaise cushion fabric.

But usually, he's green:


When we first moved to this house, the tree frogs ruled the yard.
Each night brought out dozens of them.
They usually plastered themselves against the windows  
to catch the insects that were attracted to the interior lights.
And frequently, catching bug dinners
 involved the frog stretching to its full length in order to belly across the glass,
leaving a streak of clear frog-slime wherever it moved.
Many is the time I raised a window blind and found myself  eye-to-eye
with one of these voraciously hungry amphibians.
Fortunately, I wasn't on their menu.

But the tree frogs not only anchor themselves to the windows, 
they also favor the doors because that is where outdoor lights glow.
One summer morning as I was fixing coffee, 
I picked up a damp dish cloth and a green tree frog jumped right out of it.
Talk about a wake up call; my heart is still beating fast.
The frog had apparently jumped off of an open door the night before
and sought the coolest, wettest environment it could find
near its point of entry. It's not the first one to visit this way.

Despite this,  we do love them. We call them barking tree frogs
because  a rattling pan or clinking glass is enough 
to set off a kennel's worth of barking
from the ones on the deck outside the kitchen.
A closing door will set off the ones who live in the front and side yards as well.

As I understand it, these small tree frogs
are not true "barking tree frogs,"
which are quite rare and have a wider girth and spots.
Regardless, we persist in ignoring the scientific taxonomy
in favor of our own terminology. 

We'll keep calling sleepy here a barking tree frog:

We hope since the year has been wet, more will return than are here now.
That is, as long as they stay stuck to the door when I open it.
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Tuesday, August 14, 2012

Feel the Cool

August is the month for the dog days of summer.
And in the USA, Summer 2012 has set records for heat and drought.
Tidewater Virginia has been the exception this summer 
since we've had lots of rain lately.
Such frequent thunderstorms and their resultant precipitation
make it more humid when the sun does come out.
Even though we haven't experienced the same searing weather here,
a Tidewater summer is always hot and steamy.

My husband and I rode our bikes one morning last weekend, 
but the day had already grown uncomfortably warm.
As we turned our bikes onto a  tree-lined street, 
the air was suddenly, surprisingly cooler.
It was great to "feel the cool" after biking in the hot sun.
It made me think about the ways we used to stay cool before air conditioning.

Usually  one of the first things people would do back then 
was to keep the curtains and blinds opened on the "shade side" 
of the house in the morning, but close them on the sun side.
When I was a kid, it was common for homes to be 
 kept dark and cool inside this way throughout summer.

And people usually relied on shade trees planted around their homes, 
something that is less common today.
But a short drive out of the seven cities here in Tidewater
reveals a number of homes with tin roofs surrounded by large shade trees.
And  really, there is nothing more pleasurable than to sit in the shade 
 on a hot summer afternoon and drink iced tea
or lemonade garnished with a sprig of mint.

Here's an ancient poplar with plenty of dappled shade:

Sitting on front porches with porch swings suspended from blue ceilings 
also provided a respite from the heat.
In many southern communities, sleeping porches were common too.
A sleeping porch sounds like a great idea to me.
How restful it would be to lay in the dark and listen to crickets
and the gentle swaying of the trees in the night breeze. 

The following link connects to an article about how people used to stay cool.
It's got lots of interesting historical information and is a fun read:


My favorite part of the article is the advice to seek out a subterranean cave.
But lacking that, I recommend ice, the old standby:

There's nothing frostier.
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