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Hawthorne the author with an ‘e’, hawthorn the tree with no ‘e.’ This comes up because I had been thinking of Proust’s love of hawthorns while walking along Hawthorne Street, it turns out, which is presumably named after the author. This was last Spring and it was actually a row of cherry blossoms that inspired the recollection. It was after a light rain and the trees remained in full blossom but the sidewalk below was plastered with their petals in a surprisingly even and lovely pink distribution.

This entry was posted on October 10, 2026 at 4:55 pm and is filed under Uncategorized. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Both comments and pings are currently closed.