The twilight opening of the door to the enchanted photographic realm of “magic hour” is announced by the canned tunes of the ice cream man plying his cold confections 365 days a year. If I’m home when that tinny music floats down our street, around 5:00 o’clock this time of year, I make a mad dash for the camera and head outdoors.
Rusellia equisetiformis spilling off the back porch
Geranium pyrenaicum ‘Bill Wallis’
Erysimum linifolium ‘Variegatum’
Queen Anne’s Lace
more tulips budding
There’s no time to grab an ice cream and photos, it’s strictly either/or, before the door has swung shut on another fleeting magic hour.
If only the truck sounded like this Ice Cream Man. But then I’m sure I’d chuck taking photos and head straight for the ice cream truck.
Your photos are as delicious as Mocha Chip! š
your photos are all that!!!
Though I love ice cream, I am glad the man has not started rolling through the neighborhood. He only plays one song, and it is a sad electro version of Turkey in the Straw.
Uhm…another one of those things I take for granted living “up north,” here of course the ice cream man (along with his irritating little tune) only appears for 3 or 4 months of the year. Of course he makes up for his absence by parking at the end of our street (where there is a park) and not turning off the endless loop of noise.
Thank you, all four of you! Les, I’ve yet to buy ice cream off the truck. And there’s a rival truck that plays holiday tunes year-round.
Loree, it did finally occur to me that it’s possibly not the norm to have ice cream trucks running all year.