It’s in the eye of the beholder, isn’t it?
I took a walk on the Old Croton Aqueduct trail as spring just came up, and it got me to thinking.
So many beautiful things. So many of them so ordinary. First, a sign warning me off. My favorite kind of sign, so commonplace.
I see them everyplace, I guess because I like them so much. And I like going past them so much.
I spotted another one recently too. Almost as nice.
I find I like almost any free advice.
Mainly so I can ignore it.
Back to the trail. Tree shadows. Common.
A hollow. I think we make a mistake in distinguishing between death and life. Death shelters life.
Another hollow, this one in an old-old silver maple on a Bronx street.
Okay, anyone would call this tree extraordinary.
On the trail there’s a backyard koi pond I’ve passed a thousand times. Sort of common.
A sycamore, not yet leafed out.
You could just walk by and not notice. Nothing remarkable. Back yard steps, leading…where?
Look down. A pine cone. Brown. Ho-hum.
Gertrude Stein said, It takes a lot of time to be a genius, you have to sit around so much doing nothing, really doing nothing. Looking at not much of anything helps too. Noticing nothing much.
More trail shadows.
Twisted bark. Common.
Ye olde stone wall.
Sprouts.
Rudimentary flowers. If they have a name, I can’t remember it at the moment.
Daffs.
The most basic flowers. To again quote Gertrude Stein, a writer who knew something about the commonplace, Rose is a rose is a rose is a rose. Or daff is a daff is a daff.
Still, I’m glad I brought my hankie, since the most commonplace flowers make me tear up these days. As ordinary as they are, who knows how many seasons we’ll see them for?
This happens to be an everyday handkerchief inherited from my grandmother. Commonplace! That walk got me thinking. How many of the common things are my favorite things? A homemade hot fudge sundae.
Mister Softee though. Pretty much average. Pretty remarkable for kids though.
A polite dog.
A dog hug.
Any hug, really. Holding hands will do in a pinch.
Pansies. Can you get any more banal?
An afternoon suburban street.
So common. Note the towering beech though. How about a suburban dawn?
Sorta makes you think, to quote Gertude again, There ain’t no answer. There ain’t gonna be any answer. There never has been an answer. That’s the answer. Got that? Street poetry.
Just walk on by. So ordinary.
Banal.
Anyone could see the poetry here. Of course.
Petals. Okay, they happen to be cherry petals.
And everyone knows cherries to be extraordinary.
Look up, though. At the sky. Totally ordinary blue. Once more, Gertrude: I like a view but I like to sit with my back turned to it.
Go ahead, Gertrude. Just try.
Jean Zimmerman 