This post is dedicated to my soon-to-be historic patio garden. We took a chance on pushing the rules of urban-living, and we lost. I’ve been instructed to dissemble the garden by Monday.
Below entry written, September 18, 2011:
It’s 5pm on a lazy Sunday. The day was spent slightly hungover due to drinking too much boxed-white-wine with friends the night prior. Casey and I talked architecture over a brunch of local eggs and greens. Then I wandered the neighborhood, slowly checking things off my to-do list – no commitments rushing me in any direction.
Now I’m on the patio. Or – as anyone else would say, ‘the fire escape.’ But am I escaping a fire? No; I’m soaking up the sun amongst my little outdoor garden and letting myself dream – these are precise activities of a patio – hence the more appropriate term.
If you’ve ever visited our apartment, you’ve come out here. It’s not optional. My goal is to insert a drink in your hand, and push you out our bedroom window so you can share in the magic.
Below are six stories of other urbanites’ patios. The couple immediately underneath us has a bold garden, complete with blood-red tomatoes and a little maple tree. We opted to bend the ‘no plants on the fire escape’ rule as opposed to blatantly break it. My two iron flower boxes are attached to the outside railing (with an absurd amount of zip ties), and thus pose no threat to an exit, should one be necessary.
These two boxes of nature, quite possibly, are my most adored plant life to date. Two Jasmine, one lavender, and a few asparagus ferns are stuffed into these three-foot beds, hundreds of feet above the packed urban earth. Between each box is a small, barely used bird feeder. The solid seed mixture dangles on a metal chain, begging for attention from our city’s flying species. For music, the patio features two different wind chimes, softly pinging a tune every few minutes.
Should you wish to enjoy the patio while dark, never fear, a string of Christmas lights weave through the railing – glowing the view just slightly.
Thank you, as always, for letting me share a favorite piece of life.