Blog archive
April 2024
Stimulated by "Caste"
04/22/2024
Tulsa reparations, Religion and Politics
04/09/2024
March 2024
Trumps War with Black Women
03/31/2024
Addressing The Needs of Older Adults Through Pasadena Village
03/25/2024
Coming Soon: More Resources for Older Americans, Online and in Person
03/25/2024
Community Building Locally and Nationally
03/25/2024
Preparing for the Future with Ready or Not
03/25/2024
Volunteering is at The Heart of the Village
03/25/2024
Women's Liberation: Then and Now
03/25/2024
Writing Memoirs Together
03/25/2024
Current Views on Current Events
03/20/2024
Unchained
03/18/2024
Rumr of Humor issue # 2409
03/10/2024
Blacks Portrayed by European Artists
03/03/2024
Rumor of Humor #2408
03/03/2024
February 2024
Caring for Ourselves and Each Other
02/27/2024
Doug Colliflower Honored
02/27/2024
Great Decisions Connects Us to the Worldwide Community
02/27/2024
Letter from the President
02/27/2024
Pasadena Village's Impact
02/27/2024
The Power of Touch
02/27/2024
Villages as a New Approach to Aging
02/27/2024
Addressing Gang Violence in Pasadena-Altadena
02/21/2024
Rumor of Humor Issue 2407
02/19/2024
Thank You For Caring.
02/12/2024
Rumor of Humor 2405
02/11/2024
Curve Balls
02/10/2024
Sylvan Lane
02/10/2024
Rumor of Humor 2404
02/09/2024
Larry Duplechan, Blacks in Film
02/03/2024
January 2024
Pasadena Village Joins Community Partners in Vaccination Campaign
01/29/2024
Rumor of Humor #2403
01/28/2024
Pasadena Village Joins Two Healthy Aging Resource Projects
01/25/2024
Decluttering: Do It Now
01/24/2024
Village Volunteers Contribute to the Huntington Magic
01/24/2024
Villagers Creating Community
01/24/2024
Villagers Reflect on Black History Month
01/24/2024
Walk With Ease, 2024
01/24/2024
Wide Ranging Discussion on Current Issues
01/22/2024
Wide Ranging Discussion on Current Issues
01/22/2024
Rumor of Humor # 2402
01/21/2024
Rumor of Humor # 2401
01/15/2024
Re- Entry Programs, a Personal Experience
01/08/2024
Sylvan Lane
By Edward A. RinderlePosted: 02/10/2024
There is a street near my home called Sylvan Lane. It winds its way for about 500 yards from Opechee Way at its south end up to El Rito Avenue to the north. There are no cross streets.
There is very little traffic on Sylvan Lane. I rarely see anyone out and about. But the homes and yards are lovely. It gives me pleasure to admire them.
There are no streets quite like Sylvan anywhere in my neighborhood. My 20-year-old Webster's says “Sylvan” can mean “pleasantly rural” or “pastoral”. I like those meanings, for I find Sylvan Lane a place of quite calm.
I have a history of memories with Sylvan Lane. Memories from Halloween, when the shadows of “spooky” bats fluttered on the bare wall of one of the homes. Memories of Christmas decorations, faithfully displayed for all to see. Other homes in my area decorate for the holidays, but somehow Sylvan Lane seems to outshine all the rest.
I remember many lovely walks along Sylvan Lane with my wife, Jean. Jean particularly loved a gardenia shrub near the Opechee end of our route. She was quite taken by the beautiful blooms and the sweet fragrances of the gardenia blossoms. Alas, the gardenia's days were numbered, as were Jean's. But sweet memories of Jean fill my heart whenever I walk past the spot where that gardenia shrub once lived.
I walk alone now, but Sylvan Lane continues to be my favorite nearby street. I usually end my walks with a tour of Sylvan. She often surprises me with something new to see along her way.
Going back 14 months, I experienced something like an epiphany. It reached its climax as I walked along Sylvan Lane, taking in the majesty of her trees, the fragrance of her flowers, the sound of her breezes. I felt a warmth like a blanket engulfing me. A “presence” filled my body, my heart, my soul. I have not been quite the same since. I feel that presence daily, on Sylvan and elsewhere. The presence that first revealed herself on Sylvan.
On another occasion, as I walked the Lane this past fall, a huge tree startled me with its array of leaves decked out in shades of reds, oranges, and yellows. I was so taken by that tree that I stopped in the middle of the street and sang “Autumn Leaves” to it. That song helped me grieve the loss of Jean as it brought back not only the sadness, but also the joy of my years with her.
Recently, I happened to meet a young women who was out walking her dog along Sylvan Lane. I have never really been a dog person. I've actually feared them due to some moderately “traumatic” experiences in my childhood. But this dog,“Richard” by name, somehow drew me to him. I rubbed the back of his head and nape of his neck. His owner encouraged me with the words “He loves people”.
Then, spontaneously, from deep in my heart, that “presence” rose, and I responded . . .
“So do I”.