Mixed Medium

If you drive past the corner of Mission and Fremont, you'll notice a huge corner lot that has been fenced in, tarped up and plastered with For Sale signs for as long as anyone can remember. If you park your car, walk over and pull back the plastic to peek through the chain link, you'll see a big dirt hole with weeds and a few forgotten objects. In reality, it looks like construction was halted on a project at some point after bulldozers had started digging for an underground parking structure.

But in a photographer's fantasy, it looks like a still life arranged by Andrew Wyeth.

Mail Call

Many houses in Monterey Hills have mailboxes just like this one. It's as if the entire development got a deal back in the late 60s on these old-fashioned metal homages to the Pony Express-- an odd choice, considering the prevailing mid-century modern architecture of the area.

I just love them. They're charming, kind of corny and completely unexpected.

Caption this photo... (#13)

Hmmm....

I need help with this one, people!

Parking Space

I'm fascinated by the big empty parking garage attached to the big empty building on the far north end of Arroyo Drive. It was the inspiration for a recent post, and here it serves as a melancholy study in shadow and light. There is something palpably sad and yearning about this place, and not just because it returns a pretty spooky echo when presented with footsteps. Is it possible for abandoned office buildings to be haunted? These asphalt ghosts feel poetic. (Maybe they never really wanted to be in business anyway...)

Palms Up

Remember when I recently looked up through my sunroof and saw this? Well, yesterday I looked up again in the same spot. This time, there was no rain. In fact, I don't even think those are clouds. I think the air actually curdled in the intense heat.

Free Ball

A group of teenage boys managed to play beach volleyball at Eddie Park the other day. Barefooted and shirtless, they didn't need sand or seawater. They had the net, the ball, the sun, the savvy, and absolutely no responsibilities on a Friday afternoon other than pwning each other with killer spikes and, in all probability, insulting each other's moms.

I saw part of the game as I drove by. On the drive back, I caught these three walking away with the joyful swagger of victory. Summer. It's such a grand battlefield for the young.

High Stepping

South Pasadena's long history has left behind countless little architectural treasures. If you pay attention, you'll notice marvelous leftovers of other eras ... sometimes literally under your feet. Like these deco steps leading the way to a friend's charming 1930s cottage. Can you imagine Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers tapping their way to the top?

Golden Summer

I can't think of anything to say that would add to this sunset view looking west from Monterey Hills. How about if Emily Dickenson does the talking, instead:

How the old Mountains drip with Sunset
How the Hemlocks burn—
How the Dun Brake is draped in Cinder
By the Wizard Sun—

How the old Steeples hand the Scarlet
Till the Ball is full—
Have I the lip of the Flamingo
That I dare to tell?

Then, how the Fire ebbs like Billows—
Touching all the Grass
With a departing—Sapphire—feature—
As a Duchess passed—

How a small Dusk crawls on the Village
Till the Houses blot
And the odd Flambeau, no men carry
Glimmer on the Street—

How it is Night—in Nest and Kennel—
And where was the Wood—
Just a Dome of Abyss is Bowing
Into Solitude—

These are the Visions flitted Guido—
Titian—never told—
Domenichino dropped his pencil—
Paralyzed, with Gold—

Showing Off

Take a look at who was strutting around my neighborhood yesterday. Neighbors told me that a group* of peacocks live and breed somewhere in Monterey Hills, but nobody remembers seeing one below. The consensus was that this one is a young male -- too little to have grown the showy tail plumage yet but old enough to take off on an adventure.

Just when I thought South Pas couldn't get anymore magical. I mean, really now ... we already have wild parrots. But wild peacocks, too? I love this town!

(*A cursory look at the internet tells me that a group of peafowl is called a muster or an ostentation. Ostentation? Perfect!)

Sour Grapes

I missed a great shot of one of the prettiest old cars I've ever seen. It would have been ideal to include in my series. Picture it: a vintage white Thunderbird ...high polished, pristine, perfect. It was strategically parked in front of a Craftsman home yesterday and, wouldn't you know it, the batteries in my camera were bad. When I went back later, the car was gone.

J.D. Salinger once wrote, "I don't even like old cars. I mean they don't even interest me. I'd rather have a goddamn horse. A horse is at least human, for God's sake."

Well alrighty, then! That old white T-bird was derivative, anyway...

South Pas Up Close #6

After so many days wrapped in the gray shroud of June, July has resurrected the summer with heat and light. Everywhere, new leaves and long grasses stretch out and bask. Even my otherwise stalwart sago palm got caught up in the season and presented a bouquet of new fronds. They looked so photogenic curling toward the afternoon sun.

Happy Birthday, Glimpses of South Pasadena!

It's official ... Glimpses of South Pasadena turns one year old today. And like all toddlers, it's beginning to cut its teeth and learn to run! Thanks to all of you, my dear readers, this blog has gone from a mere concept to a full-fledged creation. What I thought would be an exercise in simply chronicling my new town has turned into something much more. I am so grateful to everyone who contributes to nurturing this little blog baby of ours -- from my beloved daily commenters who give each post terrific history, insight and wit to the many email supporters who provide me with inspiration and motivation.

Thanks, everyone. Now, let's head toward the terrible twos, shall we?