9.29.2008

setting down roots

I have good news: it has taken them nearly a month, but all of the plants are finally sprouting. No flowers yet, but our slowpokes are doing just fine--leafy and lime-green and loving this Indian summer. The little guy in the middle will be herbs; to his right is the Candy Stripe, which prefers neglect and does not like to be watered. Loner. 


I am forgetting the name of this one right now--it is something complicated and wordy that begins with a B, though I do remember that it will come up blue and very tall. 



The garden was deweeded a few weeks ago, so Nora planted the snap peas I bought a while ago in a patch in the back. She put bricks around the seeds so as to delineate the growing area.



The turn of a season always feels significant, more concentrated, but to me there is something particularly weighty about the transition to autumn. San Francisco doesn't have the painterly reddish-gold landscapes of the East Coast--that is one thing I miss about Vassar, the way you could chart the evolution of a season in the colors of its trees. Here, it sneaks up on you. The leaves on the ground become crunchier; afternoon buses are filled with twelve-year-olds with backpacks and Lisa Frank folders; the sun begins to fall at six-thirty instead of seven or eight. I imagine that there is an overall smell of Earth in the air--soil, pine, grass--though that is probably just wishful thinking. I've never been a summer kind of kid and have always felt most comfortable in fall and winter. I like burrowing in with warm jackets and blankets and hot drinks--there is something so cozy about these months. I can't wait for it to start raining. Sun is nice in the summertime, but I'm more into stormy weather. 

The downside to all of this is how far-flung a lot of my friends are. Most of them are spending their junior year in London or Paris or wherever  else, so we have to plan updates weeks in advance. I talked to Dana on iChat yesterday. I used to get freaked out by how voyeuristic iChat seemed, but now I'm hooked. I got to see her little French bedroom and everything. I am going to send a letter off to Ali's London apartment today. I also miss this one:



Martina and I have been going to lots of yoga classes in the meantime. We've been taking this amazing Thursday class that always leaves me feeling both unknotted and sore everywhere. Years of ballet has left us both pretty flexible, so we can usually handle all sorts of bendy poses, but the people in this class are unbelievable. I think Mart and I are the only people who can't do a headstand. This is our goal for the year. 

There is a farmer's market a few blocks away from my house on Saturdays, and I stopped by on my way to work yesterday to pick up a handful of heirloom tomatoes. They are so good. As a result, there are only two left .

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