Four seasons

 

This is a beautiful time of year in West Seattle, with the scent of lilacs drifting everywhere you walk. There are several bushes on each block and also lining the alleys, planted decades ago by homeowners who took pride in their little houses and yards.

These lots are scraped clean of vegetation to make way for big box houses, but many older yards are still filled with blooming trees and the types of woody shrubs that aren't planted much anymore-- like vibrunum. That's the white flower above that looks like a small hydrangea.

In Margaret Renkl's NYT essay this morning "I Brake for Robins," she writes how "small local landscapes are becoming ever more crucial in the context of a world on fire. When we cherish and tend what we have the power to tend, we make a place where vulnerable creatures at least have a chance. About 135 million acres in this country are in residential landscapes, a powerful entry point for environmentalism."

If you are lucky enough to have outdoor space, consider the innocent birds and creatures that live there. End of lecture.

Speaking of seasons, yesterday we heard Vivaldi's Four Seasons at the Symphony, frequently referred to as an "old chestnut" because it is so well-known and possibly overplayed. That said, there is good reason why people love it, so you could more kindly call it a "timeless classic."  

Instead of a guest soloist, it was played by the Symphony's own Associate Concertmaster, Helen Kim. This is always popular with the local audience. Of course every note not just memorized but played perfectly. It was brilliant from our 4th row seats.