Damn, son!

Youse,

It's been so long since my last post, and I know that I have a lot of updating to do. Of course, this task may seem unnecessary to most of youse as the reason for my absence was that I was in your presence. However, the next few posts will at least allow me to share some tender photos.

For those not in the know, I was in Austin enjoying Matt and Emily's marriage (another post) and then I was in Minneapolis enjoying those wahoos and singing (yet another post). What this post is about is my return home. Backwards, yes, I know.

Still, it's hard not to want to write immediately about the paradise I encountered when I returned to Rochester. Granted, my stay in still cold and brown Minneapolis helped draw the experience of landing in lush, green spring-y Central New York into sharper contrast, but by any measure, things here are quite beautiful. (That is, if you don't have allergies. This morning while lotioning my body (an activity that strikes me as very Mariah Carey-esque) I witnessed smoke-like plumes of yellow pollen wafting away from the huge pine tree in my backyard. Fortunately, I have yet to experience the pain of allergies.)

Rochester, New York also calls itself the Flower City, as opposed to Minneapolis's nickname, the Flour City. I think part of the reasoning is the Lilac Festival, which is soon to commence. The Lilac Festival takes place in Highland Park, which is a large park on a large hill in South Rochester. In addition to the huge trees and bulb gardens strewn across the hills and gullies, there are copious amounts of lilac bushes- something my nose detected as I drove past the park on my way to Gay Coffee Shop. Of course, the scent o' lilacs will be masked once the Festival begins in earnest, as I saw the food vendors setting up their deep frying trailers in preparation for the hungry hordes this weekend.

Anywayze, even though my mailing address is Rochesterian, I live in a first-ring suburb named Brighton. Brighton's nickname is the Tree City/Village/Suburb. I actually meant to post pics in the autumn after one of my walks turned up a wealth of huge, beautiful trees in full fall colors, but you know how I do. Or in this case, you know how I don't. Well, as I've never been in Brighton during the Spring bloom, I've been constantly impressed with the quality of bloom we're getting in the tree city. It seems that everyone in the neighborhood has not only huge oaks and sycamores (my faves) but also cherry trees, dogwoods, redbuds and the like. Here is a picture of my cute lickle house, with the redbud on the left and the dogwood on the right:


Knowest thou the redbud? It's a great tree, although it would be even more amazing if its blooms were perfume-y. That said, the fact that the blooms closely follow and do not obscure the structure of the beautiful branches make it quite handsome, as if it belonged in a Japanese print. Also, this tree is hilarious to me because the blossoms just don't give a fuck. The will sprout directly from the trunk itself. Here is proof:

One last look at the wonderful redbud's canopy:

I have so many other pictures to share, but I will just go ahead and load them up to my flickr account so that youse can truly enjoy the bounty of my back (yard). One last parting shot. I was trying to get a close-up of a dogwood blossom when I spotted a slender bee on one of the petals. I tried shooing it away, but it stayed on the petal, inanimate. In the picture you'll see the reason why:

Sorry, Wendell. Don't mean to step to you on this subject matter. It won't happen again. Please don't send the vultures.