Life on Westmont Drive
- By Andrew von Rothberg
- Published 08/6/2008
- Lifestyle
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Andrew von Rothberg
Longtime resident of Fayetteville, currently enjoying life from the vantage point of the Haymont Hill.
View all articles by Andrew von Rothberg
Can we revive it? Sometimes I wonder where the sense of "love thy neighbor" has gone to, believing at some point in my life that the friendly sort of neighbors who would lean over their hedges to talk to you were a figment of 1950's era television fantasy-land, and that people simply didn't do those things any longer. Not so.
In my corner of Haymont, the spirit exists. There is a lovely home that stands on the corner of Jordan and Martine Streets with a beautifully tended yard and even more beautiful flowers. They have a mix of black-eyed Susans and a variegation of Dusty Miller, mature dogwoods and crepe myrtles, azaleas, and a strange and unusual vining flower I have never seen before, but found beautiful all the same. Perhaps one of my gentle readers would be so good as to identify it. Hiding in its rear is what I believe to be a treehouse or playhouse, with brightly strung lights gracing its railings. It seems a quiet retreat.
I mention this home and its gardens because of the pear tree which stands in the yard. Yesterday I was speaking to my neighbor's daughter-in-law Gail when a lady strolled by us on the sidewalk: she had a bag of pears which had burst, and she asked if either of us had a paper sack so she could gather them up and carry them home. Gail had one handy, and perhaps by way of exchange or kindness, or whatever it is that motivated her to tell us, she shared "there is a house with a pear tree in its yard, and a sign that they are giving them away for free".
Free pears? Perhaps to some ears this would sound mundane, or crazy, or boring. I'm not sure, but to me the idea of a beautiful piece of fruit that I could maybe craft into a tart or pie or some other delicacy is pretty compelling. Later that evening my mother and I walked up Westmont Drive, found the home, and helped ourselves to some of the pears which we placed in a basket to carry home. As of this writing they are ripening on the window sill in my kitchen, and I think I'll make a special treat with them tomorrow, something involving way too much butter and definitely chocolate---perhaps cinnamon poached pears in puff pastry with a chocolate sauce? I think I've found my answer.
Thank you, neighbor, for the pears. I do not know who you are, but you are gracious, and you embody the spirit that makes life on Westmont Drive, and indeed, Haymont, the pleasure that it is.

A pear from the house off Jordan Street.

Basket of Pears. Kitchen cloth from Martha Stewart Home Collection, available locally at Macy's Department Store Cross Creek, 1500 Morganton Road, 910-864-1550; handwoven gift basket from Bob and Sheree's Brew and Wine Shop, reused by author (Custom made gift baskets for all occasions, 238 Hay Street and 2828 Raeford Road 910-223-9463. Please lend your patronage to our local businesses.)

Black eyed Susans and Dusty Miller in bloom.

The strange flower whose name I do not know.

Variegated Lariope in the flower beds of the nice people on Jordan Street.
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Comments
Comment #1 (Posted by Amber Corbin)
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Well done, Andrew! And that beautiful flower is a passion flower, or at least that is the name that I grew up calling it. Those vines also make these melon-like seeds that *POP* when you stomp them. Thus my familiarity with the flower! I spent many a hot August day stomping those things, and, unknowingly but now thankfully, spreading their seeds. Such a lovely flower. Such a lovely memory. Thank you, Andrew!
Comment #2 (Posted by Anne)
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Kudos, Andrew! A lovely article, and Amber beat me to it--my mother had a passion flower vine, and I immediately knew what it was. Brought back some happy/sad memories of the lovely old English garden I grew up with--climbing roses, great bushes of fragrant English lavender, huge sweet-smelling lilacs, thick spikes of delphinium--in fact, your entire article evokes memories of a simpler life, a gentler time. The little old lady up the lane had the pears--she didn't offer, but my sisters and I sampled! Thank you so much.
