Monday, April 5, 2010

Curious Trees

What kind of tree is this? They're all over the city and right now, they're all blooming big puffy white blossoms that give me gullahs in my throat, especially in the mornings.

Trees in Hawaii don't really go through any blooming. They have leaves, seeds, and flowers pretty much all year round, never altering their wardrobe for the changing seasons. The major exception is coffee. Coffee trees are related to gardenias, so their white blossoms smell sweet as--well, gardenias. There's always one day, and only one day, when every coffee tree in Kona, from Kaloko to Captain Cook, just explodes with these sweet blossoms. It's like a snowfall. You never know when it's coming, you just wake up one morning to the smell and the buzzing of innumerable honeybees. By the next morning, the petals have withered slightly and turned brown at the edges, and they smell somewhat fermented. The day after that, they've shrunken up completely. One day, that's all you get.

But I digress. The trees on the mainland bloom in the spring, and what a sight! Magnolias on the lawn of the Frick, dogwoods at Pratt, cherry blossoms in Central Park, and everywhere these mystery trees, blooming away like coffee. They were naked for so long in the winter, and soon their branches will be modestly clad in the thickest of summer foliage, but right now, flower lingerie. Oh, those naughty trees!

Speaking of which, I put up my shear summer curtains and pulled out all of my summer clothes. It's like saying hello to warm weather Alterna-Rachel. Of course, it'll take a few weeks to adjust. Just yesterday, at an Easter party in South Brooklyn, the BF's grandmother commented on the extreme whiteness of my legs, revealed for the first time since September. I probably glow in the dark.

Tomorrow, going to see Alice Waters speak at Book Court, and the day after that, friends from SoCal are in town for the weekend.

I'll leave you with this spelling mistake, on the marquis of the Union Square Cinema. Who knew there was more than one Titian, and that at some point they clashed in a mighty battle of paintbrushes and small-titted Renaissance women?