Lunch at Hurd Orchards

Since I first moved to Rochester, I’ve been hearing what a wonderful place family-owned Hurd Orchards is - whether for lunch or to pick your own blueberries.  I finally had the opportunity to eat there not once, but twice, in the last two weeks - first with my friend Linda, who invited me to join her for the Garden of Flower Fairies Luncheon, and then with my friend (and Concentus director) Gwen, who joined me for Violets and Violas. What a treat both outings were!

Amy & Sue introducing the Fairies lunch

 Even though the listed time is 12:30  (everyone eats together in the big barn),  lunch at Hurd Orchards is an unhurried  affair, and the family’s focus on  preparation and presentation trumps  promptness.  This gives you time to  browse the wonderful shop and enjoy the  gardens while anticipation and appetite  build. For both lunches I attended in May,  fresh, fragrant lilacs were in abundance in  the masses of floral arrangements. Co- owners Sue and her daughter Amy make you feel as if you’ve been invited to their estate for a garden party, as they greet familiar guests by name, and direct you to find your name card at one of the rustic tables arranged comfortably around the barn. 

honey cake

petit fours

For the Fairies lunch, Sue and Amy not only explained each dish that had been prepared, naming the ingredients that had been specially selected from their gardens that morning, but read some fairy poetry to help set the mood. The meal was delicious, from the violet petals stuffed with boursin cheese to the exquisite honey cake and petit fours.  Each course was too delicious not to finish (my favorite was the asparagus and leek soup, with a dollop of cream), and by the end, Linda and I were completely sated.

So it wasn’t a chore to return the following week, especially to hear Alexander Peña on the viola (I had heard him speak at an event earlier this year and we’ve been corresponding by e-mail, but I had yet to meet him). This time, we learned from Sue’s introduction that the orchards have 70 varieties of apples, from some of the oldest heirlooms to two of the newest varieties – RubyFrost and SnapDragon, both developed in partnership by the New York Apple Growers and Cornell University.

Alexander and Jenny at Violets and Violas

Alexander, who has a Masters from Eastman and is the director of RocMusic, a music education outreach program based on El Sistema, was joined by Jenny Välitalo, who recently received her Doctorate from Eastman. They entertained us non-stop with harmonious viola duets as we enjoyed culinary treats from the gardens (including those scrumptious violet leaf boursin cheese appetizers, and an asparagus and pea soup).  Alexander shared that this was his third year playing for Violets and Violas, and the thing he loves most about the viola is its “tonal palette,” that it is “an imperfectly beautiful instrument.”  Jenny, who hails from Sweden near the Arctic Circle (so she probably finds Rochester weather rather tame), added that it’s also because of the 3 Bs:  “it’s bigger, better, and more beautiful” than a violin!

Gwen and me (in my violets vest my sister
made for me 30 years ago...)

The music was a the perfect accompaniment to a delicious meal in this gorgeous setting, and all of the guests were respectful as they conversed quietly and applauded each piece.  Gwen and I barely saved room for the lemon curd tart dessert, but we somehow managed…  On our way out, we chatted with Alexander and Jenny, who finally got to sit and eat. Gwen mentioned the possibility of hiring one or both of them to accompany Concentus sometime, and Alexander responded favorably, adding that he knows some lovely pieces for chorus and viola.  Jenny also confirmed that she might be able to suggest a Swedish folk song or two to add to our repertoire. They were not only excellent musicians, but gracious and friendly as well.

lemon curd tart

Gwen and I couldn’t resist purchasing a few of the meal’s ingredients in the shop before heading back to Rochester, content from an afternoon of two of our favorite things:  food and music!

For a schedule of the Hurd Orchard Luncheons:  http://www.hurdorchards.com/events2.htm

Singing with the RPO

Preparation

Concentus Women's Chorus, one of the groups I sing with, had the privilege of being invited to perform Holst’s The Planets with the RPO for their season finale. Our conductor, Gwen Gassler, made sure that we practiced the piece at every rehearsal this year, so we would almost have it memorized.  It took time to become comfortable with the quintuple meter, and I was glad not to be a soprano - they have seemingly endless measures where they must float on a G!  Because there are no lyrics (we vocalize on ‘ah’s), it is extremely important to limit vibrato.  And because we are a relatively small group, mastering the dynamics was also a challenge (we must go from pianissimo to even quieter, as we fade out at the end!). 

The Planets has seven movements (Earth didn’t get one, and Pluto hadn’t yet been discovered in Holst’s time, let alone discredited as a planet).  The choral section is the last few minutes of “Neptune, The Mystic,” which is also the final movement. “Holst stipulates that the women’s choruses are ‘to be placed in an adjoining room, the door of which is to be left open until the last bar of the piece, when it is to be slowly and silently closed’, and that the final bar (scored for choruses alone) is ‘to be repeated until the sound is lost in the distance’.” ¹

Gwen and Michael Francis conferring

At our first rehearsal with guest conductor Michael Francis (chief conductor of Sweden’s Norrköping Symphony Orchestra), before the orchestra arrived, we were a bit tentative, and he advised us to “be unhuman and pure,” to feel as if were in space, “looking down on the notes, and pulling them up from above.”  The goal was to make our sound ethereal, celestial,…mystical.  He also encouraged us to sway in time (since we wouldn’t be seen) to feel the 5/4 “maternal rhythm.”  More than once he urged us to sing with a lilt, to achieve an “interstellar” sound.  His insights were instrumental in helping us visualize the music. As we moved to join the full orchestra rehearsal, he quipped, “I will start with Neptune because I’m very nice.”  We were thankful!

Pianissimo is how soft?

Gwen with Richard Decker,
VP of Artistic Administration

Once we were off-stage with the full orchestra, it was clear that our pianissimo couldn’t be heard in the hall (the maestro stopped the music, with a hand to his ear, asking “the ladies” if we were in fact singing), so we were moved closer to the door (where he could keep an eye on us and monitor our swaying, as well!) and directed to sing louder, but still liltingly.  After some fits and starts, we finally got it right enough to be dismissed, leaving till the subsequent rehearsal to determine how to effect the fade out – turn and walk further offstage?  Have someone close the doors (which squeaked)?  Stay put but slowly raise our scores in front of our mouths? Luckily, by the next evening, the door noise was silenced – problem solved.

Performance

The Grants:  Kenny (Principal
clarinet) and Kathy (singer)

Months of anticipation culminated Thursday night, as we gathered for a final rehearsal in a nearby classroom, and then, nervous and excited, assembled off-stage after “Saturn” to await our cue.  It was a treat to watch the conductor’s wonderful facial expressions on the monitor, his eyes wide as he danced during the raucous passages. Our roughly four minutes, which we had spent countless hours rehearsing, flew fast, as we swayed under his (and Gwen’s) watchful eyes.  Our adrenaline running high, we strove to give maestro Francis the best lilt and the clearest tone, to honor his vision of this wondrous piece.  It was exhilarating, and we were touched when, after the music stopped, he blew a kiss to us and the orchestra. 

I was excited, as we joined the orchestra for a bow, to see such a full audience, all on their feet, whistling and whooping. And I am grateful to Gwen, who put so much effort into making this happen, and to Richard Decker, for believing in the group enough to hire us. Concentus will be performing the piece with the RPO again on Saturday night, and if you’re in town, you can probably still get tickets to experience this heavenly concert.  And I hope we will see Michael Francis back in Rochester again very soon...

¹ Wikipedia, Holst, The Planets, which itself quotes "The Planets" (full orchestral score): Goodwin & Tabb, Ltd., London, 1921

Rochester Ride of Silence

This week was the 12^th annual national and the 4^th or 5^th  (depending on who’s talking) annual Rochester Ride of Silence. The ride originated in Dallas, to honor a bicyclist who had recently been killed by a motorist.  One ride in one location turned into a widespread movement, to honor all bikers who have been injured or killed, and to raise awareness with drivers to share the road.  The national organization’s website has a too-long list of bikers who have been killed in car accidents, and it is obviously, unfortunately, incomplete – neither the woman killed by the bus in Rochester in January nor the woman killed in 2012 in Penfield by the racing motorcyclist is listed.

I’m not good at estimating numbers of people, but it looked like about 150 showed up.   Luckily, the threatened rain didn’t materialize.  As we signed in, we were instructed to buddy up, as we’d be riding in pairs, taking an entire lane.  Bikers are generally friendly people, and especially for an event such as this, so I quickly found a partner, Brent, whose spouse also decided not to participate.  After some riding instructions by one of the organizers (including the caution that the two most dangerous parts of the ride were leaving and returning to the parking lot!), he shared their “hope that our silence will be a loud statement to those drivers who continue to not pay attention to their responsibilities,” and someone read poem in honor of those who can no longer ride.  Then we set off, in respectful silence. 

Since I usually bike alone, I am used to silence, but this was different.  The pace was deliberately slow, and contemplative – around 9 mph – so we coasted almost as much as we pedaled. It was nice not to have to be alert for cars, and their potentially distracted drivers, or to be concerned about directions; motorcycles stopped traffic for us, and all Brent and I had to do was follow the 60+ people ahead of us.  Close enough that we didn’t create a mile-long string (but we probably did stretch to a quarter-mile), and far enough apart that we didn’t risk hitting one another.  There was only one mishap, when about 50 of the bikers ahead of us made a wrong turn.  I’m not sure how the couple a dozen pairs ahead of us knew not to follow, but I was thankful for where Brent and I were positioned in the pack… 

We rode on mostly country backroads, where, at our slow speed, we could really smell the lilacs, and people grilling dinner.  Dogs and kids greeted us occasionally, but otherwise, the only sounds were the motorcycles overtaking to position for an upcoming intersection, and the occasional changing of gears.  I thought about those two women, whom I hadn't known, and the many other bikers who've been hit by careless drivers.  I always worry, when I'm on a road ride, if I will join them.  No matter how cautious you are, there's no predicting when a driver might be disracted or drunk.

We completed the 9-mile loop in just under an hour. 

It would be great if drivers were always attentive and respectful of bicyclists.  It would also be helpful if bikers reciprocated that respect, and always obeyed traffic signs and signals.  Unfortunately, neither of those is likely to happen, so it’s best to be on the lookout and proceed defensively, no matter how many wheels you’re on.

A Conversation with the Composer: Rich Wilder - "Where Is My Love?"

Rich Wilder and Gwen Gassler

It’s not often that a singer gets the opportunity to chat with the composer of a piece she’s singing – he or she is either inaccessible or dead.  So I was excited to learn that Richard Wilder, composer of Where Is My Love?, which will be premiered at Concentus’ June concert, is not only alive, but local!  He graciously agreed to meet me for coffee and conversation.  I had lots of questions about the song, and how he came to write this specifically for us to perform, but first wanted to understand more about him, since he’s frustratingly un-google-able.

Turns out Rich, who, at 77, is extremely actively retired, was not just a choral music teacher in the West Irondequoit school system for 30 years after he graduated from the Eastman School of Music, but he is also a world traveler.  He spent five years sailing in the Caribbean, he has biked solo in France and Belgium, and he and his wife enjoy camping (according to Rich, “there are two bad times in a trip – when you leave, and when you come back”).  All of this speaks to his passion for nature.  In the rest of his free time, he composes, and volunteers in aid of the homeless and the hungry.  

While he has composed some 45 vocal and choral pieces, this is his first one for women’s chorus.  Apparently, in true Rochester fashion, he’s related through some convoluted in-law trail to Michelle Brown, one of Concentus’ singers.  He heard the group sing, and met with Gwen Gassler, our conductor, to discuss composing a piece specifically for us – what an honor, to be given the gift of such beautiful music!

I asked him which comes first, the music or the words?  Definitely the words.  He loved the poetry of Sakura, as well as the traditional Japanese folk tune on which this piece is based, and also the connection to nature.  “The Japanese take their cherry blossoms very seriously, and their ephemeral nature is important to Japanese mythology,” he explained.  He inserted a contemplative, emotional passage in the middle of the piece.  As he remarked, “anyone can write a melody, an A section.  The hard part is the B section,” and how to transition back and forth.  He stressed the importance of “unity and variety”:  the balance needed between “what holds the piece together and what will hold an audience’s interest.”  He joked that “you can repeat something twice, but the third time must be different.”  He also pointed to passages in the song where he imagines swells, and then “gliding before you fall down the other side.”

He admitted that he loves the middle range of women’s voices, and that one of the challenges of this piece was for it not to get too low, since it has such a wide tessitura.  He also specifically wrote the solo because he likes the contrast between the single voice and the full chorus – to him “the sound of a single voice appearing out a choral work provides interest without straying too far away.” This is also the first piece he’s written for a non-Western instrument, and he chose the koto not just because it’s in keeping with the tone of Sakura, but for his friend and kotoist Debbie McCullough. This presented another compositional challenge: the need to stick to the pentatonic scale for this instrument, without having the piece feel static and flat.

Rich modestly describes himself as “an ordinary guy, doing some stuff.” He doesn’t consider himself a “real composer.”  I hate to be disrespectful, but he is wrong on both counts. Concentus looks forward to performing Where is My Love? and hopes our audience enjoys hearing it as much as we do singing it!

For more information about the upcoming concert, visit Concentus' website:  www.concentus.org

(written for Concentus Women's Chorus' blog)

RPO Plays The Music of John Williams

Bob Bernhardt, a Rochester native and former principal conductor, guest conducted the RPO, or as he put it “your Carnegie Hall triumphant orchestra,” for this delightful concert.  The fun began before we entered the hall; there were characters from Star Wars throughout the lobbies posing for photos with audience members.  And this was not the usual RPO crowd; there were children, and 20- and 30-somethings. (Charlie remarked that there probably wasn’t much overlap with the Carnegie Hall crowd.)  I chatted briefly with the young couple behind me, who confirmed that this was their first RPO concert, because they were drawn by the composer (and the husband was a huge Star Wars fan).  Unfortunately, although they were accompanying their parents, who seemed to be frequent RPO-goers, they admitted they were unlikely to return for another concert, classical or pops.

Bernhardt was very engaging with the audience, giving introductions to each piece along with various John Williams fun facts, but he also interspersed amusing personal anecdotes and groan-inducing puns. After the opening piece from Superman and a brief introduction, he joked about changing the program to Bruckner and locking all the doors.  You could hear some nervous laughter, but I also sensed many in the audience just thought, “who?” 

While many of the selections were familiar to most of the audience, I suspect some were not, either because they hadn’t seen the movie they were from, or they hadn’t really noticed the music when they did see it.  It’s certainly a different experience to listen to movie music “front and center,” instead of as a backdrop to the action for which it was composed.  And it was interesting to hear music from separate films that sounded extremely similar (e.g., Star Wars and Jurassic Park), as well as pieces that were completely different, like the lovely, quiet “Dartmoor, 1912” from War Horse.  Hearing that piece, as well as the “Hymn to the Fallen” from Saving Private Ryan and “Sayuri’s Theme” from Memoirs of a Geisha, made me want to see all of these movies, which I’d missed. 

When Bernhardt introduced Kenny Grant for his solo in “Viktor’s Tale” from The Terminal (another one to add to my Netflix list…), he explained that the work needed “a terrific clarinetist, and boy do we have one!”  Kenny, in gypsy garb, practically danced as he expertly played the bluesy passages, and he was clearly enjoying the piece. 

Among the fun facts we learned about Williams:  he doesn’t own a computer, so everything he composes is done with pencil and paper;  he’s been nominated for an Oscar 49 times (and won 5), many times running against himself; he composed the NBC Theme song, which the RPO played in its entirety, not just the 30 seconds you hear on TV;  and his two favorite composers are Haydn and Elgar.  At 82, Williams is still going strong, and we can look forward to his score of Star Wars VII (and VIII and IX?). 

The Star Wars characters joined the orchestra on stage 

Hearing the RPO play a suite from Jaws made me realize that those two initial notes, just a half step apart, are probably as instantly identifiable as the first four notes of Beethoven’s 5^th Symphony.  And who wouldn’t recognize the famous five notes from Williams’ Close Encounters of the Third Kind?  Unfortunately, that piece was not on the program, because there just wasn’t time to perform everything one might want to hear (and Bernhardt admitted that the program was selected based on “stuff I like”).  Although the audience probably would have stayed at least another half hour to hear Close Encounters, and the theme from E.T., and more, Bernhardt threw us a bone for the encore, as he donned an Indiana Jones hat, and led the orchestra in a rousing suite from Raiders of the Lost Ark. 

Who knows, maybe the door is open to present another John Williams concert down the road.  And maybe the conductor could even sneak in a little Haydn and Elgar…

RPO at Carnegie Hall

It isn’t often that your local philharmonic orchestra plays an ‘away game,’ and at Carnegie Hall, no less!  As soon as tickets went on sale, I bought two for my husband and me, and made arrangements to spend a few days in New York City.  Did I neglect to inform him that they’d be performing an opera?  Oops.  We’re not particularly opera lovers, despite our second ‘first date’ occurring at a Met performance of Wozzeck (or perhaps because?!).  Never mind – it was the RPO at Carnegie Hall!

I was excited to learn that 700 Rochesterians would be attending this concert as well.  Most of them purchased tickets from the RPO, and were rewarded with lilac (of course) handkerchiefs to wave at the performance, in a show of support.  The week's program, Spring for Music, included the New York Philharmonic, as well as the Seattle, Winnipeg, Cincinnati, and Pittsburgh Symphonies. 

Howard Hanson was a fixture at the Eastman School of Music for 40 years, and composed Merry Mount in the early 1930s for the Metropolitan Opera.  It received mixed reviews, and has seldom been performed since. Although he had composed choral and symphonic works, this was his first, and last, opera.  Hearing the pared down concert version (conductor Michael Christie mercifully cut roughly an hour from the score), I was impressed with the orchestral and choral music.  Part of me wished they could have dispensed with the soloists - to me they just distracted from the orchestra, and placed them in a supporting, rather than starring role.  As a friend commented on our way out, it would have been more enjoyable, and a better representation, to hear the RPO play a piece of Mahler's.  On the other hand, performing a work by such an illustrious Rochesterian, and presenting a collaboration with the Eastman-Rochester Chorus and Bach Children's Chorus of Nazareth College, displays the true Rochester spirit.  And the musicians weren't just playing to a transported Rochester audience.  The 2800 seat Carnegie Hall was at least two-thirds full, so there were definitely some New Yorkers who were getting the message that our city has a plethora of quality performing arts organizations. 

Merry Mount is rather an odd opera, about repressed religious zealots and their fanatical persecution of those not of their faith.  It surprised me that this is a description of the Puritans, who I grew up believing settled in the New World to escape religious persecution, rather than perpetuate it.  The music is fairly traditional and not memorable. But the RPO performed wonderfully, as did the huge chorus, whose enunciation and dynamics were enviable.  The children's chorus was adorable.  The soloists were fine, but unfortunately not all from Rochester.  It was disappointing that they couldn't have found more local opera talent, or at least those who had some tie to our community.

Sadly, the New York Times reported on May 4 (in an article about the future of classical music, discussing how "orchestras in Albany, Buffalo, and Rochester stay nimble") that this will be the last year for this series, due to lack of financial support. I'm glad the RPO was able to participate this year and that we were able to share in the experience.

Brighton's Designated Landmarks Bus Tour

As part of the Brighton Bicentennial celebration, Historic Brighton ran several tours of the town's designated landmarks. Our bus was almost full, and we recognized several friends as we made our way towards the back. David Whitaker, the president of the organization, and his wife (one of Charlie's cousins, fortuitously, as it would turn out...) and daughter-in-law also boarded and sat near us.  Our three guides introduced themselves, after which the driver did a safety overview, much the same as an airline would.  That shouldn't have been relevant to the day's events...

Apparently, there are 59 landmarks, the first of which was designated in 1996, and the buildings date from 1792 to 1957.  The tour was to cover 50 these buildings.  We began with a drive past Stone Tolan House, Monroe's oldest structure, and then swung down Grosvenor Road, with an explanation of its lovely, mostly Tudor-revival houses, but no designated houses (yet?).  We drove through part of the Houston Barnard tract, but the only house that was mentioned was the old Gannett house.  We were off to the far side of Brighton, presumably to work up to these majestic mansions.  We passed the Clover Street condos, the first to be built in Monroe County.  As we crossed Monroe, heading briefly into Pittsford, our guide pointed out the Spring House, which used to sit on the canal before it was rerouted and route 590 took its place, and whose bar was strategically located just on the Brighton side of the border with Pittsford, which was then a dry town.

#9 School House -
photo by Katherine Grabosky

Back in Brighton, at the corner of French Road and Edgewood Avenue, our attention was drawn to the #9 School House, with its lovely bell tower.  It had been converted to a private home, in wonderful example of adaptive reuse.  And then we hit a snag.  Well, to be precise, a transformer.  Luckily, we just grazed it - we didn't cause a power outage or a need to use the on-board fire extinguisher.

15 Southwood Lane

In the driver's efforts to pull to the shoulder and slow down as we passed 15 Southwood Lane, the Second Evans Farmhouse, one of the back windows buckled, and we came to a stop. It was going to be at least a half hour before we were rescued, so some of us disembarked for a short walking tour to 245 Edgewood, past #281, with its foundation stones from the digging of the Erie Canal.  It was chilly when the sun didn't counteract the wind, so we were headed back to the bus, when David's son drove up in a large SUV, and his wife and daughter-in-law tried to sneak off.  I quickly cited family ties to secure Charlie and myself a spot in the vehicle, although I did defer to David, should he want to bail.  In true captain fashion, however, he chose to remain with his vessel.  I have no idea what time they returned to the car park, but we got back in time to enjoy the rest of the afternoon.

281 Edgewood Avenue

Luckily, Historic Brighton had given us all a lovely booklet with a map and description of all of the landmarks, so we can do our own walking tour of the Houston Barnard section on a nice day. Perusing the pamphlet, Charlie was amused to see his uncle's home, the "Baird-Finucane House" on East Avenue, listed.  We would have like to inquire why that house, and not, for example, his grandparent's house, or any of the other spectacular homes on Ambassador Drive or Sandringham Road, made the cut. But perhaps there's a good reason not to have your house designated, since the honor comes with restrictions on alterations, and oversight by the Historic Preservation Commission.

I certainly hope that the subsequent bus tours were less eventful than ours, and that Historic Brighton makes their publication available to those who wish to do their own walking or driving tour of these beautiful historic homes.

Ock Hee's Gallery - the Power of Flowers

My friend Gwen had recommended this gallery in Honeoye Falls on several occasions, and when I learned about an exhibit of floral paintings, both in the D&C and at a garden club meeting, I knew it was time to make a visit.  I dragged Gwen, on a miserable, rainy afternoon, and I'm glad I did, because I hadn't understood how well she knows the owner.  When we arrived, she immediately greeted Gwen, and offered us cups of tea.  What a gracious hostess!

Flyer for the Power of Flowers Exhibit

The tiny gallery, behind an only slightly larger retail space, is in an old train station, and also serves as Ock Hee's home.  She explained the different artists and media and styles to us, especially Carol Woodin's exquisite botanicals, done in watercolor on vellum.  I was curious about the vellum - that always seemed like tracing paper to me...  Ock Hee politely did not laugh at my insinuation, but instead informed us that Ms. Woodin is exhibited in the Smithsonian Institution as well as the Royal Botanical Gardens, Kew.  So no tracing involved!  And the vellum isn't your ordinary synthetic variety, but instead made from calfskin, the same material the monks used to make their illuminated copies.  (The image 2nd from the left on the flyer is from her "Two Anemones.")

Another featured artist is Alan Singer, an RIT professor from an incredibly artistic family.  He and his father, Arthur, illustrated a book of state birds for the National Audobon Society:  Arthur drawing the birds and Alan the habitats.  Alan's submissions included both framed and unframed floral paintings (including "White and Gold Lily," 2nd from the right on the flyer), many of which I would have been proud to own (my favorite was already sold - I told Ock Hee that the price was way too low!).  There were also several lovely unframed botanicals by his mother, Edith (Judy).

One of the things that has always impressed me about botanical paintings is their incredible detail.  Most paintings are usually smaller than life size, and the reduction necessarily means the loss of some detail, no matter how realistic the rendering.  But the botanicals are the complete opposite - they are life size or larger, and the detail is meticulous.

Local artist Dennis Burns' paintings are in a completely different style (sumi-e, or literati painting - see the image 3rd from the left on the flyer), and Ock Hee described the particular skill and brush strokes necessary to execute them.  From the card at the exhibit explaining the technique:  "The artist's idea is characterized by (1) an economy of strokes, (2) a decisive execution, (3) an asymmetrical composition.  By these methods the painting is not a final statement but a starting point, drawing the viewer in to complete the idea using his or her own experiences and imagination."  Although a literati painting takes less time to complete than a detailed botanical, it takes years to master the the art.

Ock Hee started the gallery in 2005, and mounts six exhibits each year.  She doesn't focus just on "fine art," but, as she said, searches for "anything created with heart and hands."  She made Gwen and me feel so at home that I was jealous when two couples entered the shop and we had to share her attention!  The ground was too saturated for us to explore the outdoor labyrinth, but a quick look on the website reveals that it is open 24/7.  What a lovely gesture to open the grounds of your house to strangers to explore.  I will definitely go back to walk the path, and perhaps use the time to reminisce about my parents.

For more information on the gallery, and the Power of Flowers exhibit, which runs through May 24, click here:  http://ockheesgallery.com/