The Life in Death - A Room with a View

Originally, I was considering writing this as a four part series:  a trilogy of images and a post of perspectives and human conceptualization of demise.  It has recently come to my attention, however, that death - being universal - comes up quite often while I'm traveling.  This in turn means that I tend to write a lot about it.  So this four part series has been reduced to a trilogy of images.  Giving death its due, but no more.

 

So on our final journey through this resting place, I will focus on the land and scenery.  Being a high commodity in most urban/suburban localities, it seems noteworthy that so much prime real estate is devoted to those who cannot see and will be buried under the ground.  Or is it that we cannot admit the scenery isn't for their benefit at all.

 

Take a walk with me.  Will you?

 

 

Granted, these pictures were taken during the summer months, but even in winter the trees stand guard on meandering pathways.

 

 

 Flowerbeds meticulously tended, and in many cases species labeled for the edification of all. 

 

 

 These particular trees, meticulously chosen flourish with space, light, and strength like sentries along the path. 

 



 

The layout can leave you forgetting where you are, but just through the trees lies the true purpose of this space.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Not all outcrops of life are so meticulously planned though.  Here and there life erupts spontaneously.  A version of survival of the fittest:  the most beautiful or least in the way are allowed to stay and mingle with designed life. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Designed life isn't always so bad.



 

 

 

 

 

 

 and the end result is a room with a spectacular view.

 

A Park is a Park is a Park … Or is it?

Picture A:  For the purposes of this post, I am withholding captions until the end.  A key is posted at the bottom of the post.

 

Growing up, my idea of what a garden looked like was fairly narrow.  There were really only two possibilities.  One genre was expressed in the form of my father’s and grandfather’s vegetable gardens, which were rows of edible potential – the list of acceptable vegetables was quite narrow now that I think of it.  Think of an illustration from Beatrix Potter’s  Peter Rabbit.  Cucumbers, cabbages, zucchini, beans were all common.  The thought of rhubarb, carrots, or melon while acceptably within the confines of a typical garden, were also extravagant.  Quite exotic and exciting. 
 

 

Picture B

The other genre was well displayed in my mother’s flower beds.  These were spaces on the edge of a lawn which were edge-to-edge color during certain seasons, and a strange array of greens and leaves during others.  The population of these flower gardens was far more diverse than the vegetable gardens.  Each year my mother would go to gardening centers, farms and other odd places to bring home something brightly colored with an appropriate seasonal match to what was already living in her garden space.  Inevitably she would have a mix of perfectly matching flowers and whatever was on sale that week.  In some cases whatever she had discovered in conversation or neighborly visits to other flower gardeners.  Thus the small gardens would be so choked full of plants and flowers that the weeds barely stood a chance.  At least, this is how it all seemed through the eyes of a 10 year old growing up in a place with an extremely limited growing season.  The mere thought that there are places in the world where you could plant corn more than once during a single season would have blown my mind!

 

Picture C

 

 

As I grew, and traveled more I learned that these definitions of “garden” were clearly not the only options.  In high school I visited Versailles and was excited to see vast French gardens, only to be horribly disappointed because … it's all dirt!  The idea that gardens, public or otherwise, would leave huge sections of their land exposed as a choice and a contrast to highlight the careful shaping of planted bushes and tress was both shocking and ugly to my undeveloped eye.  I still prefer a more filled garden to a sparse decoration of shapes and design, but there is beauty to be had in either setting. 

 

 

Picture D

 

 

On occasion though it still strikes me just how similar some gardens can be.  On a bright sunny day recently I sat in Boston’s Public Garden only to be struck by how similar that place was to Hyde Park in London.  The more I thought about it, the more it also reminded me of the small park in my home town, which despite the extraordinary differences in public funding, had similar ambience and a striking feeling of home. 

 

 

Picture E

Throughout this post I’ve sprinkled a picture or two of gardens, parks, and a few other locations that elicit a similar feel.  Although some of these places are so remarkably different that it would be like comparing apples and orangutans, they are also so similar that a jet-lagged traveler may, for a moment, forget where she is. 

Picture F

 

 

Picture G

Picture H

 

 

 

 

A:  Public Garden, Boston, USA; B:  Hyde Park, London, England; C:  Safari Walk, Nairobi, Kenya; D:  Central Square, Taboshar, Tajikistan; E:  The Road to Kara-Sakal, Tajikistan; F:  Hyde Park, London, England; G:  Khujand, Tajikistan; H:  Lincoln Park, Chicago, USA