We continue the series on walking Buffalo, from the intrepid couple who walked every day—no matter the weather—in the first 30 months of Covid. They think (without being systematic) they walked every street in Buffalo, and many in other cities and towns, taking some 20,000 photos, some of which are shared in this series. While not itineraries, we hope to encourage others to “walk the walk,” to see, observe and appreciate Buffalo—and beyond. William Graebner and Dianne Bennett are also 5 Cent Cine’s film critics, here.
Today’s Photo-Essay: Planters
We imagine gardeners to be the happiest of all walkers, every yard a feast of plants, trees and flowers to identify and praise (or find wanting). But we’re not gardeners. Efforts to broaden our knowledge have invariably failed. We have two house plants, both, miraculously, survivors from the 1970s, and four inherited evergreens, struggling to be green. Our relationship to the world of flora brings to mind a passage from Sinclair Lewis’s century-old “Babbit,” in which the protagonist, having journeyed to Maine to experience the wonders of the wild, has hired a guide, Joe Paradise, whom he imagines to be a font of nature lore. Deep in the woods, Babbitt asks Joe, “Say, what’s the name of that little red flower?” Joe replies: “Well, some folks call it one thing and some calls it another. I always just call it Pink Flower.”
What us “pink flower” folks can do on our walks is notice and enjoy the variety of “planters” that grace the region’s yards. Maybe it doesn’t matter that we don’t know what’s in them.
You won’t have to spend much time on the streets of the East Side to know you’re in “tire country”—that is, planters made out of car tires. The tires have been carved and reshaped, then sometimes painted, and sometimes mounted. The heart of tire country is the intersection of Wohlers and Northhampton, where a corner lot is trimmed on two sides with tire planters. On close inspection, the planter in the foreground features a carved planter mounted on a wheel mounted on another tire.
Another East Side tire planter, this one with the more typical “points.” My guess is those are marigolds.
West Side gardeners are not so much into tire planters, but they are not unknown on that side of town. These are a nice vivid red, and quite simple:
This West Side residence features four walkway planters, two of them coolers, two of them “Tidy Cat” receptacles:
Hollowed-out tree stumps or logs would seem an obvious solution, but this is the only one we recall seeing:
Another one-of-a-kind sighting, of two ceramic, over-the-sidewalk, Lovejoy swans (above right).
Pots, of course, are common, but few are as cleverly configured as this decorated pot-on-pot, found in South Buffalo:
Garments as planters? Yes. In Kaisertown, a pair of Buffalo Bills mini-pants decorates a front porch. In Cleveland Hill, two pair of rain boots in a washtub.
Celebrating Santa in Riverside:
Never throw anything out—it can always be used as a planter. That’s the message we took from several outside-the-frame planters discovered on our walks.
A Grand Island household collects miniature vehicles. The gray VW bug became a planter, and the pink one was “planted” with pink flamingos:
We had that sinking feeling when we found this one in Woodlawn:
When in doubt, just put that broken toilet in the front yard—and plant it!
A corner yard in Niagara Falls wins the prize, with its Depression-era, Art Deco, washing-machine planter. Congrats!
In the words of the 1952 song, “That’s Entertainment!”
How to Take a Walk in Buffalo – Look Up! Roofs and Roofers
How to Take a Walk in Buffalo – Buffalo’s Mini-Marts
How to Take a Walk in Buffalo – Remembering 9/11
How to Take a Walk in Buffalo – Street Humor
How to Take a Walk in Buffalo – The Yard as Spectacle
How to Take a Walk in Buffalo – Beware of (the) Dog
How to Take a Walk in Buffalo — Halloween
How to Take a Walk in Buffalo: Little-Known Trails and Paths
How to Take a Walk in Buffalo: Church Board Advice
How to Take a Walk—in Buffalo, and Beyond: Coping with Covid
© William Graebner