Friday, January 25, 2019
A Frosty Foxglove and 'Swan Lake'
Well, the tree trimmers came and went yesterday, and we had no disasters. I persuaded them to save a big climbing rose that had clambered its way into a tree that we had trimmed. Right now it looks pretty gangly, drooping by itself over our wildflower garden, but my plan is to pull it higher into the tree or maybe onto the nearby fence. It's a very "sticky" rose, with lethal thorns -- they've torn several of my shirts and my jacket -- so that should be a fun exercise. But when it blooms in the summer it's beautiful, and the bees love it.
Above is our little snowdrop, growing in the lawn as it does every year. I put a tomato cage over it while the workers were here and asked them not to trample it. I'm sure they thought I was crazy, but it's kind of out in the open and it seems so vulnerable.
As you can see, we had some frost yesterday morning. This is one of our foxgloves.
Also, the apple tree (bush) was removed as planned. I have to admit the garden does look better without it. We might put something low-growing there but it's nice to have that space open, allowing more light to reach the roses.
Last night Dave and I went with our friends Sally and Liz to see Matthew Bourne's version of "Swan Lake" at Sadler's Wells. It's a sort of gay fantasia built on Tchaikovsky's masterpiece. I first saw it on Broadway in December 1998, and in my journal I wrote that it was "an amazing show, beautiful and aggressive and even sexy. I could have watched the lead swan for hours, to the exclusion of everyone else. He was brilliant, and he truly became birdlike and soared, angry and male and stunningly sculpted."
This production seemed less polished, which makes sense for a smaller theater, I suppose, or maybe I'm just super-critical. But it was no less absorbing and thrilling and beautiful to watch, and the lead swan was no less sculpted. This time it was the prince whose stage presence most drew me in, and I finally got to see the whole show -- when I saw it in New York, some latecomers to the theater disrupted the seating in our section, causing the ushers to make several people move and me to miss a chunk at the beginning. I was so mad I wrote a letter of protest to the theater, arguing that they shouldn't have let the late people in. (It probably got thrown in the trash -- in any case, it was never acknowledged!)