April 23rd

It's Shakespeare's birthday. I thought I should say "Happy Birthday, Will!" seeing as we--okay, I--so ill-used him on the blog merely a week ago.

It's also St. George's Day in the United Kingdom. From what I understand it's not exactly a big deal on that precious stone set in the silver sea, but it makes a good excuse to go to the pub. Luckily, this year the day of St. George (who wasn't British and never set foot on the sceptred isle) falls on a Saturday, because the day of Britain's patron saint is not a holiday. But Happy St. George's Day to our British friends nonetheless.

I didn't have any pictures of dragons, or knights, or even pubs for that matter. But I'm a sucker for an archway.

Cold Confection

I came across this gate back in April, then came across it again last night while looking through my photo files. It's on the property that once belonged to the Merritt Mansion and is now part of the Ambassador Campus. When you step through the gate, a little stairway takes you from the lower garden to an upper garden. I posted about the Merritt upper garden last May, soon after I wandered there taking photos.

For those who don't want to click the links: industrialist Hulett C. Merritt was one of Pasadena's early millionaires. He built his mansion on Millionaires' Row in 1905 for a cost of $1,100,000. That gives you a general idea of how fancy the house was, and still is. It's a big, old wedding cake of a place, one of the few surviving mansions along Orange Grove Blvd. You don't normally notice it from the street, though, because it's flanked by a couple of modern buildings that were built by Ambassador College when it bought the property.

Those ill-conceived flanks look like giant ice cube trays, which conceal the wedding cake in their chilling shadows. But you can stroll on the property at Green Street and Orange Grove Avenue and discover this remnant of Pasadena's past for yourself. Do it soon; the property has been purchased. Changes will happen. Let's hope they won't be drastic unless, for example, ice cube trays are removed to reveal wedding cakes.

Wander far enough and you'll find this gate. Let it lead you to the gardens. It only takes a little imagination on your part to enjoy a glimpse of its heyday.

Did I mention I like archways? I think I mentioned I like archways.

No Way Arch

I've always had a thing about archways. I find the shape compelling in a way I find hard to describe. When I returned from England some years ago I had a collection of photos of archways--a small arch leads from one Oxford courtyard to another; the arch of a ruined cathedral wall frames the view over a grassy courtyard; an arched, wooden door shows scorch marks from fires of hundreds of years ago.

Through an archway my eye and imagination travel distances of time and miles. Kings stride under arched entryways, leading their armies into castle keeps. A door to a secret garden creaks open, then closes with a click. The souq spreads out beneath a Marrakesh window. Priests walk quietly in hidden cloisters then, as now.

I don't know where this small archway would lead if it could--an alley, a neighbor's yard, maybe a parking lot. Not that I care. It's fodder enough for thought.