Backyard Design

EverClear Pool & Backyards

1 month ago

We built this 12'W x 78'L x 4' 1/4"D Lap Pool about 10 years ago...
In floor cleaning system
Pebble interior finish
Swim lane tile
Easy Touch automaton
LED color lighting
...and much more.
Still one of my favorites... ...

EverClear Pool & Backyards

2 months ago

So...In the South we love swimming pools and Outdoor Living. Part of that Outdoor Living is great recipes by the pool or just in the backyard.
Another big part of living in the South is Fall Football. Take a minute to read a small sample of what is in store for you this Fall...
Pictured is my Backyard Bar area where we view our favorite pastime.

Signs of Fall

Breathe in... Breathe out, then back in again. The "smells" of Fall have become as synonymous as olfactory-induced images of Magnolias and Azaleas blooming to signify the true start of summer.

In the South, images of the iconic Augusta National Golf Course trigger a nation's senses and conjure visions of blooming Azaleas and Dogwoods as March turns into April and Summer becomes our new pastime as we shed the doggy winter.
Hot dogs and brick dust at Ballparks around a nation illustrates the summer to come....

Pulchritudinous comes to mind to describe the equally gripping smells that present the Fall season...especially in the South.
Clichés grip the air as fresh cut grass emanates what seems to be the entire atmosphere. Spring is being replayed in a precocious encore, actually a rebirth of incredible events to symbolize yet another yearly spectacle we are treated to.
Summer sweat, sultry heat, and humidity chambers are suffered for what seems an eternity get expelled as throngs of new images appear with the inhalation of that fresh cut grass.

Whereas Spring flowers and burnt hot dogs conjure what is surely to come with the impending summer, that fresh cut grass preludes infinite sights and sounds of the best season of them all.
Splashing water and giggling children sounds give way to helmet pops, thunderous cheers, and earthquake-like booming of the largest venues on earth erupting in joy and disappointment alike.
The crack of a bat gives way to the simultaneous thud of leather on leather, as toe strikes ball, igniting an eruption of deafening indulgence in the one true anticipated pastime...Football.

In the South, even in Spring, those grass clippings permeating the air subliminally injects what is manifested in the psyche with a single inhalation.
As we attempt to exorcise the sweaty summer past, Friday Night Lights prelude an entire season to come. Humidity and muggy companionship, elbow to elbow on spine-tingling aluminum planks quickly turns discomfort into euphoria as the crowd explodes upward. Slumped bodies hurl skyward, extending arms in a religious-like acclamation. By that acclamation, that oral vote of praise for their chosen heroes of the day under the Friday Night Lights, approval is given harmoniously, boisterously, with screams and chants in lieu of formal balloting.
This is our coming-togetherness of the Fall. The smells inaugurate the season and those Friday Night Lights provide our first foray into what will become our way of life until the cold chills of winter set in and slightly beyond.

Summer wardrobes carry over as the Friday Nighters start their Fall Odyssey. It is our Migration into winter.
The exploration into Fall slowly sheds those summer threads and with each passing Friday Night more drapery appears on the patrons to this conclave of athletics.
These athletic parishes demand compensation from its parishioners. Like Gladiators of Rome, clichés and comparisons are inevitable as young minds are manipulated for a common goal.

Visions of iron gates ascending to release horse-drawn warriors onto the battlefield give way as clever paper barriers are ripped through, flooding young combatants onto their modern day combat zone. Real combat zones are forgotten momentarily while we savor our renewed sights and smells of our favorite season.
As darkness creeps in a little earlier with each Friday Night and coolness thankfully forces repulsive feet to be covered, flip-flops give way to shoes.
The glare of the lights this late in summer gives our first glance into the coming Fall. Friday Night begins as we have anticipated and suddenly Fall doesn't seem that far away. A simple inhalation on any given day after that first Friday Night provides a rush of visions ahead.

From clairvoyants to optimists, opinions dominate conversations. On that first Friday Night all is equal. Prognostications are all speculations and anything is truly possible. Visions will change to reality and pictures become clear. That anticipated Fall smell still drenches the air even as Friday turns to Saturday, August turns to October, and the once-anticipated smell of Fall is permanently ingrained in our olfactory senses when humidity turns to frost.
The crisp air now infiltrates nostrils and a redemptive inhalation of once fresh-cut grass becomes a familiar wet, cold, sweaty fragrance...now more mildewed among the scent of grass clippings collected in bags.

The Friday Nights Lights that were curator to our Fall Odyssey give way to the eventual protagonist….Saturday.
Friday Nights treat us well; prepare us for what is surely to come. The Oracles of late summer become enigmatic whispers when September becomes October now and ambiguous parishioners pack their new locales. There is a new conductor in this Gladiator-like pastime and those now obscure predictions are tested.
No matter the outcome, the journey is prodigious and we pay homage to our new combatants as we slowly lay Friday Night to rest for a not-so-brief interlude.
Saturday…
In the South Saturday is a holiday in most regions and monstrous coliseums are created so its disciples may follow. Thunderous roars and barbarous clashes recall more sinister brawls of a darker past. Now-civilized specters romp together in their modern arenas. Still-fresh Friday Night recolections have prepared us well. Friday’s combatants anticipate their turn in Saturday’s duel.
Saturday’s contestants discern their future rivals and mates alike.

As crisp air becomes frigid, darkness covers the Coliseums earlier, and Lights shine brighter…the smells of an impending Fall are still present, albeit shrouded by prevailing stenches of now-disheveled burnt hot dogs and still-mildewey uniforms.
Yes, Fall was what we thought it was; all of it. The Win. The Loss. The Disappointment. The Glory. The Conjecture. The Proof.
The Experience of it all is what makes Fall what it is. As leaves create the most resplendent backdrop for our Fall festivities, even the anticipation, starting with those Friday Night Lights, lead us to our Zenith without calamity.

The Thuds. The Thunderous Roars. The clashing of once-innocent contributors will forever change…even if only for 48 minutes on Friday Nights.
Embrace the Friday and Saturday Nights to come. The experience will not disappoint.

Brian A. Worley ...