Sam Blackmon has a new site call The Jamaica Pond Project. Heres how he describes it:
Life on a Smaller Scale
We live in Jamaica Plain
, a neighborhood on the south side of Boston. One of the best parts of JP is, undoubtedly, Jamaica Pond
, a small, spring-fed, kettle pond.
The pond covers about 60 acres and is 90 feet deep at its center, making it the largest body of fresh water in Boston. It’s ringed by a walking path that is rarely empty.
Every time I walk around the path I try to find something different, or beautiful, or sad, or silly. This is what I’ve seen.
A few days ago, this photo was what I saw riding by Jamaica Pond. Hard not to miss.
Last night we had friends over to JP for the Lantern Parade around Jamaica Pond (a few pictures here), a community event featuring lanterns made by kids in the neighborhood to raise money for charity. It was blustery and cold, but it didn’t keep the faithful away, and as usual there was no shortage of super-cute costumed kids.
After our stroll around the pond, we walked back to the apartment for an autumn-themed dinner:
- Carrot Ginger Soup, served in baby pumpkin bowls
- Butternut Squash Pizza with Rosemary
- Pumpkin Cheesecake from Trader Joes, with baked pumpkin seeds on top
- Hot Mulled cider
- Red wine
The pizza was particularly tasty, so I would recommend trying it if you’re looking for a twist on the standard fall fare.
We bought the pumpkins a couple of weeks ago at the Allendale Farm, which is only a couple miles from here just on the other side of the Arnold Arboretum and is the last working farm in Boston/Brookline.
Earlier this week as I was coming down Centre Street back to my apartment, I was shocked to see that Pondside Reality, where Yorgos helped us found our place on Rockview, had been reduced to a charred shell. I soon learned that this was the fourth incidence of arson involving JP businesses in little over a year. My sympathies go out to Yorgos and the rest of the employees there, and I hope they can get to the bottom of this despicable string of crimes.
Fire hits Jamaica Plain again
Jamaica Plain fire called arson
While riding over the I-90 footbridge this weekend, I came across a memorial for Kirsten Malone, a young woman killed on Saturday when she was struck by a car, apparently in the area where the down ramp meets the frontage road–not the safest interchange for bikers. I assume the bike painted white and chained to nearby telephone pole was installed in her honor.
Kirsten Malone, 29; artist, ‘The Faux’ singer, keyboardist (Boston Globe)
Today as I made my lunch, I began craving French fries and, giving into temptation, I made my first visit to the Burger King about a block a way, the first time in my five years living in the neighborhood. I also took advantage of the whole in the parking lot fence for the first time, cutting across the adjacent parking lot to Allston Street. As walked the block toward Burger King, I was reminded of the mooring stone that resides on the edge of the parking lot. I took a picture of it a couple years ago while running the Roots program and I’ve been meaning to include it in the WhereProject for some time.
I made a mental note of it, but it wasn’t until I got back home that I realized that I didn’t remember actually looking at as I walked by–literally within feet of it. It could have been moved or painted pink, for all I know. So my perception of that stone today was entirely mediated by a digitized photograph I took two years ago and by the impulse to add it to this current website. Somewhere along the way, I forgot to actually see what was in front of me. I’ve seen also seen mooring stones these up at Halibut
Point State Park. Historian
Catherine A. Corman comments on these same stones in a Common-Place article:
The site was home to crusty New Englanders who employed
increasingly mechanized machinery to wrest granite–grainy,
hardened, molten magma made of quartz, feldspar, and hornblende–from
the ground. As early as the late seventeenth century, farmers and fisher
folk using iron hand tools crudely cut wheels of the stuff to serve as
mooring stones, slabs of rock combined with sturdy tree trunks that they
sunk in harbors to tie up boats.
But why is this thing in a Burger King parking lot and how did it get there? How would I even
research this? Perhaps this would be a good excuse to go to the Brighton Historical Society.
Today as I went to Herrells to get a cup of coffee, I noticed this skateboard that someone took time to bold to the bus stop sign. It’s a nice touch.
If you walk around Allston Village, the neighborhood of Boston where I live, you may notice the graffiti and street art that appears on walls, lampposts, sidewalks, and just about any other public surface. No doubt these contribute to the slightly dumpy feel the neighborhood has, but they also can provide ongoing, dynamic commentary on what it means to live in this particular corner of the city.
A few days ago, I was walking through my neighborhood and noticed this image of a rat spray painted on the sidewalk. Bizarre, I thought. Why would someone take the time to create a stencil of a rat and then spray-painted it on a random section of sidewalk? Someone clearly has too much time on his or her hands. Or this person’s sense of humor is just absurd enough to make them represent our neighborhood’s rat problem in this form.
Noticing this painted rat out of the corner of your eye fairly accurately recreates the experience of having a large rodent sprint across your path on a humid summer evening–a flash of dark movement, a gasp of surprised disgust, a quickening pace, a heightened sense of alertness. But in this case the surprise turns quickly into a chuckle as you realize, with relief, that it’s only an ironic attempt to represent the wildlife inhabiting this corner of the urban landscape.