Lon Chaney

You'd figure that obscurity would be enough to kill someone who seeks attention as much as I do. It makes me wonder what would happen if I were actually a gregarious person. This isolation from the rest of what I know would undoubtedly do me in.

Oh, yeah, the picture. That's taken from a large estate/garden that I found in the Houston area known as the Inner Loop. This property is known as Bayou Bend.

Now, Houston is known as the 'Bayou City', so I'm guessing that is partially where this place gets it's name from. "But there is no bayou in Houston," I've said aloud to myself in the voice of Dr. Strangelove. Well, this is the same place where tow trucks queue behind a fresh auto accident and put their names in a hat to see who gets the 'unfortunate' business. So, go figure.

A bridge crosses a large stream in order to reach the premises of the 'Bayou Bend'. A flowered tree anchors it, lending a compelling perfume as it coerces you to enter. A classic iron gazebo is the ticket booth. Opposite that is a small visitor station done up like the most quaint brick home. Beyond these lie pristinely trimmed rows of waist-level bushes arranged in a square. In it's clasp is a circular arrangement of the shrubs, all lauding a Greek-style statue of a woman. I thought the opening was underwhelming with all it's monotone greens and the one cold white. But as I moved on, it seemed an apertif to the stronger.....ok, I'm gonna stop this now.

I guess writing about a place full of flowers makes your writing very 'flowery'. Ha,ha.

Ha.

Anyway, the gardens were very beautiful. The house that is the landmark of the grounds has an open veranda where visitors can sit in oversized rocking chairs and overlook a descending knoll. The grass is punctuated by bunches of seasonal blooms all radiating their various colors. At the bottom of the hill is a fountain whose waters form parallel arcs resembling the famous St. Louis monument. That was nothing special, really.

Sprouting from this was a network of bush bordered paths, some concrete and others ground stone. They often led to welcoming courtyards and other highlighted arrangements of flowers. In all reality, this cannot be described. A place of such intensely preconcieved yet appropriate natural beauty must be witnessed in person. It is God's creation after all.

I don't know why I bother.

By the way, happiness can officially be found in a song called "Blue Arrangements" by Silver Jews. Stephen Malkmus' lazy, melodic guitar work should conjure a smile from anyone's face.