In the span of simply a few hours, it's amazing how quickly things can change. Witness today's offering spotted in the heart of Little Italy. At dusk, these two bags look forlorn. However, when the sun sets, they practically light up, longing to be a part of the electric canopy that helps give this neighborhood its character. This is convincing enough evidence, if there ever was any, that bags have feelings too.
The Bolton/Robert set concludes with a double, which includes our usual blue and somewhat obscure black bag. These bags are located on the north side of Robert St, mirroring their twocounterparts across the street. Take a stroll around Bolton Hill and ssee if you can spot the "four on the corner." And if they happened to have been blown away, pour some beer in their memory. (Hey, North Ave is right around the corner.)
A few steps to the left and a head-tilt up from this bag gives us a stunning view of a black beauty set in against the backdrop of a big blue sky. The black bag in a tree is something of a curiosity—we're much more accustomed to seeing blue and white bags. It's like a black pearl. But maybe even more special.
I'm currently on the road and on the first "day off" my thoughts turn to home—Baltimore, Bolton Hill, and bags in trees. It's fitting, then, that this week begins with the first in a series of three posts dedicated to bags found literally right around the corner from my flat in BH. Today's offering was the first that I spotted, but craning my neck just a bit and then turning around revealed . . . Well, you'll just have to wait to find out! (Thanks to Charissa for keeping things up and running while I was busy adjusting to life on the road last week. Big up yourself.)
Tucked tightly in the branches of this Honey Locust tree is today's bag. Although the branches appear harmless, they are actually covered in tiny thorns — thorns that are likely responsible for this bag's current location. A Native American legend says that the Thunder Spirit recognized his son by his ability to sit comfortably on locust branches, despite the thorns. Maybe our bags have the same hint of the supernatural?
Although our humble little web site focuses on bags in trees in Baltimore, occasionally we'll take a step outside of our comfort zone and exhibit a few county bags. There are far fewer bags in trees the further away from the city you are, but this tree in White Marsh actually snagged TWO bags! What luck!
Education in Charm City is front page news these days, so we couldn't help but jump on the bandwagon. This smart bag was spotted outside of the main entrance of Highlandtown Elementary School. Although we won't speak to Baltimore City Schools' academic successes, the presence of this bag on school grounds tells us that they must be cultivating young, pro-bag minds.
If Bags in Trees ever comes out with a pinup calendar, I'd love to nominate this sweet thang for the September slot. This lovely siren was spotted perched high atop a tree in Mt. Vernon just steps away from Maryland General hospital.
Ellwood Ave in Canton is one of a few locations with an amazing number of bags in trees. We're not exactly sure how one street can attract so many bags, but we at BIT sure are grateful. It's refreshing that this neighborhood is so dedicated to our cause. Is your neighborhood pro-bag?
The second in BIT's TBB series brings you an up close and personal still of the bag that captured our imagination with its debut Bagcrobatix™ video. What was especially enticing about this bag, its fullness and proximity to posh living notwithstanding, was its height off of the ground—or more like its closeness to the ground. While most bags soar high in the branches out of reach, you could reach up and touch this one. It is truly a bag for the people.
This week was something of a banner week for BIT, which made an appearance in the Windy City Times' World Wide Weird column under the headline "John Waters Isn't the Only Fucked Up Thing From Baltimore." Here's what "graysong" had to say about us:
The Internet is nothing if not a suppository, er, repository, for single-minded obsessions. Nowhere is this more apparent than that portion of the Internet known as the blogosphere. There, millions of bored teens and twenty-somethings with nothing of consequence to write about, write about nothing of consequence. Many of them restrain their inconsequential ramblings down to the narrowest of topics, like this blog about bags in trees—in Baltimore. Now that’s narrowcasting.
While we're pretty sure that the headline was supposed to make us feel bad, especially considering the dreary write-up, we're kind of proud of that. I mean, who wouldn't want to be compared to John Waters? Now I'm not sure what could of prompted graysong to lay his (or her) fist of fury upon us, but considering the WCT's readership, could it have been our stated hatred of The Divine Miss M? At any rate, Mr. graysong you are now on notice along with Ian Frazier, Australia, and all of the other bag-hating, anti-wind activists of the world.
In other news, BIT was honored this week with the distinction of the Homer Simpson Transmudanity Award, a prize bestowed by self-proclaimed pop culture junkie Matthew Caverhill on a blog deemed the "freakiest (in a good way)" thing he's seen in any given seven day period. The citation began with the following: "John Waters would probably love this week's winner." You see, those who know, know. Bask in the gloriousness this praise:
"[A]s a premise and in execution [BIT] is both so bizarre and yet lovingly crafted that I can't help but be impressed by the depth of this endeavor, especially since this blog has been in existence since March of this year. It is audacious and original."