Pink, Purple, and Green in the Sunlight

Every summer, I'll walk by a yard in Speedway and, just like the summer before, 

I'll be startled by the little sparkles of bright pink against purple and green.

The sun catches them in just the way needed to captivate my eyes.

The little pink bells look like paint has been splattered across

a field of bright green and purple color and,

suspended in space, they make a galaxy of floral stars.

However, I've never been able to capture that moment with

my camera, which saddens me. Maybe next year.

Speedway Street Art

I walked home after getting my hair cut Wednesday evening.

At the intersection of Lynhurst Drive  and Crawfordsville Road,

I noticed the pavement had been replaced with a bit

of an artistic flair. The pieces of pavement had been replaced,

using the crosswalks as the outer border.

Time of One's Own

It's this time of morning that is most precious to me, 

the time between I wake up and when I get on the bus for work, 

ready to take on the obligations of others as my own.

I cherish this time as the place where I can safely make plans,

entertain my day dreams, and enjoy the beauties of the morning.

As I waited for the bus, I was passed by joggers and walkers,

all of whom had their own reveries in mind as they

took a lap or several around the park, enjoying the sounds

of the birds and the golden morning light,

filtered by newly green trees.

Textured Tuesday: Light Shadows

I liked the image of the lamppost's shadow against the concrete wall.  

Along with the tree's leaves, the sun seemed to illuminate the post, 

adding extra dimension to the entire scene.

More from the River Promenade

A few weeks ago, when the redbuds and magnolias had bloomed along 

the White River Promenade, I kept getting caught up in all the colors 

and textures that had chosen to exist shoulder to shoulder

among the limestone walls.

Above the magnolias show their delicate color against

the abrasive texture of the stone, while the moss thrives on

another bit of the wall.

Sunshine on a Cloudy Day

Actually, I enjoy days like these from time to time. 

They provide a change from the relentless sun, such as what we had last year.

These treetops greeted the morning with their backsides pressed against

the western clouds and incoming rain, while a bit of sun

sneaked through a crack in the overcast.

The sunlight just barely had time to illuminate the leaves

before we were inundated with a morning shower.

Meanwhile ...

 ... Back at the Zoo, the beautiful birds in the aviary 

perched and fed among the branches 

as members of the smooshy, pink

two-legged species wandered and gawked 

along the paths of their enclosure.

Bleh.

This photo was taken in the Hilbert Conservatory of White River State Park. 

Butterflies of various kinds were fluttering hither and yon, 

perched on plants or dishes of a special

concoction that included beer as an ingredient.

It was nice inside the Garden, with water misted into

the building every few minutes to maintain the humidity.

I wish I were there today; the weather has been leaden gray

 and breezy with temps in the fifties.

Peonies

I've loved peonies since I was a small child. 

Their size and fragrance fascinated me, 

but they were always gone to soon, their petals

laying wilted and bereft of color on the ground

while I looked in vain for another bud.

It was a real treat to find these peonies blooming

in the yard of a vacant home.

Would anyone have missed them if I'd picked a few 

for myself? Instead of committing peonicide 

I chose to leave them where they grew.

A Bit of Sun

Thunderstorms raked across the Midwest yesterday morning, 

causing devastating tornado damage in Oklahoma.

Overnight, storms had swept through Indy, leaving tree branches

strewn across lawns all over town.

However, while I was walking to the bus stop, the morning sun

had managed to break through the cloud cover, shining through the

Japanese maple leaves and seeds on a neighbor's tree.

Textured Tuesday: Corrugated Concrete

I've lost count of the number of times I've walked along the Canal.

 It wasn't until last week I noticed the beautiful mottling 

of the concrete retaining walls along the Canal basin, 

near the fire station. The walls are corrugated, not only to create 

some visual interest, but to increase reinforcement of 

the walls themselves. The fact that such beautiful colors and textures

 have appeared over time, simply adds to the subtle

beauty of the place.

Purple and Green

Why is it that nature always gets its color schemes right, 

while people never take the hint, often getting it wrong?

I mean, flowers never show up in a ghastly plaid,

with yellow and black too tight for their rose hips.

Even with their blatant sensuality, flowers' curves 

never quite spill out of their gowns.

People, though, are a whole 'nuther story.

Sunset Reflections

On my way last night to the restaurant where I would have dinner, 

I passed through a side street that was brightly lit from the early evening sun.

However, the sun's light was cast from the east, reflected by

the gold-colored glass on a nearby office building into

the narrow little chasm between buildings.

Crooked

After work, I went to the Natatorium to take care of some business, 

then walked back downtown to go to dinner.

A thunderstorm had passed through, leaving the city wet 

and shiny in the late afternoon sun.

I passed by the Indiana State Capitol building

where I saw this fine old tree, crooked and mossy.

Sadly, my first thought was that the tree's appearance

describes perfectly the corruption of the processes

inside that beautiful building. 

Flying

I see you and I can barely keep my feet upon the ground.

I want so much to fly, to turn and twist,

To soar and dip in the sunlit sky like a pink kite,

Fluttering, darting, my ribbon streamers trailing a dancing path

Until, at last, I descend, running a few light steps upon the ground,

Once again anonymous, unseen by you,

Oblivious to my joy.

Budgies!

Of course, there are all kinds of birds at the Indianapolis Zoo,

 including this aviary full of budgeriars.

Visitors enter the little birds' home via an anteroom,

where they are greeted by the exhibit's attendant.

On this day, she was carrying a 3-foot length of dowel rod

as she emerged from the aviary through a curtain made from

floor-length pieces of five-eighths inch diameter

braided rope. The rod was used to herd any escapees

back through the rope curtain.

The trees and branches inside were covered with the multi-colored 

chattering budgies, who darted back and forth between 

the perches stationed throughout the airy house.

They often flew very close to the visitors; I could feel

the beating of their wings as they flew overhead.

Visitors could obtain sticks with dabs of bird food 

on the end to feed to their hungry hosts. A little girl 

about four years old was holding one of the sticks 

for the dining pleasure of a little blue budgie.

Oh, Grr-Grr-Grr

All day the bear paces her enclosure. 

A path has been worn around its perimeter. 

She starts from the entrance to her home,

tracing her own tracks from the day before,

from years before.

People stand and admire her, trying to imagine

her power, wondering what it would

be like to be the unfortunate "slow human"

who was brought down by her giant paw.

It was the same at every exhibit I visited;

the only islands of peace were contained within

the animals' enclosures while outside, a teeming mass 

of humans strolled from one display to the next.

But every animal wanted out, every animal was looking

toward some horizon, even if it was just an internal

longing expressed by generations of genetic instinct.

They wanted past the humans, to get back to their wildness,

to the places without the cages.

Textured Tuesday: Crappy Repair

Outside a bar on Washington Street, 

some kind of brick veneer paving 

gave way to what appears to be a repair 

made up of actual brick pavers.

Rockin' the Fest

A coworker was planning to take her nieces to the 500 Festival Kids' Fest 

this past Saturday. She told me the one thing they were really looking forward to 

was riding the Ferris wheel that was set up on the north side of the Circle.

When I walked through the crowd at mid-afternoon, the

line of people waiting their turn to ride the Ferris wheel was 

lo-o-ong, with little faces peeping over the sides of the gondolas

as the ride was loaded.

The Circle was full with the sounds of people and music,

vendors with little tents, food trucks offering a wide ranging menu

of familiar favorites and exotic dishes, and entertainers

whose talents spanned different tastes. The people streaming

through the sites seemed to come in two sizes -

my size and about half my size. Many were even shorter,

being pushed by their parents in strollers.

Little girls often wore paper crowns designating them

as princesses, while every child seemed to have some

sort of design painted on their faces.

Overall, it was a happy crowd, virtually guaranteeing

that people will return.

A Downtown Saturday

 This morning I went downtown to meet some folks at the Indianapolis Zoo, 

which I will tell you about later in the week 

I stopped at Cafe Patachou for an omelet because I hadn't had breakfast

then walked towards the Zoo, about a mile farther west.

There are people in this town who will tell you there is nothing

interesting to do in our city. During the walk I took Saturday,

I saw a lot of interesting activities, all of them with

hundreds of participants, the first of whom were folks 
preparing for the dedication of the Cultural Trail.

 As I passed the Eiteljorg Museum, the water at the deers' feet 

had been turned on, adding the illusion of a creek to

the sculpted herd's dash across the museum's lawn.

The grounds of the Indiana State Museum was alive 

with people who were setting up the venue for

the annual Asian Festival.

I walked across the Lawn at White River State Park where the grounds 

were being used as the finishing site for participants 

in the annual March for Healthy Babies events.

I spent about three hours at the Zoo, exploring a lot of the exhibits, 

and only saw about half of the grounds. Obviously, additional visits are

in order. After leaving the grounds, I returned via the River Promenade

and Central Canal Walk. On the Old Washington Street Bridge,

I encountered a couple tour groups, all of them on Segways.

All of the vehicles have rev limiters(?) on them 

to prevent riders from using them in an unsafe manner.

At the Canal basin, a group of people came down the staircase from 

street level for a photography session at the water feature 

near the Indiana State Library. Among the people accompanying

the young woman above were about a half dozen young men,

all wearing tuxes of the same shade of blue as her dress.

They appeared to be celebrating her Quinceanera,

her fifteenth birthday, a rite of passage marking her entrance

into young womanhood, leaving dolls behind.

On Monument Circle, another celebration was in progress, 

the 500 Festival Kids' Day, a free event for families

with vendors, activities, musicians and performers that

began late morning and ended late afternoon.

The Circle was crowded with throngs of happy children

and their parents. Clearly, anyone who says

there is nothing to do in Indianapolis has their head up their ass.

All Fixed

The server for the system that controls my phone, 

television and internet service went all screwy this week.

Things were not connecting as they should;

the signal for the TV would kick out about every

five minutes or so, then reconnect. It was the same or similar

for my internet service, making work a pain.

I think it took all of fifteen minutes on the phone

with an IT tech in, oh, say, Mumbai, to find the problem,

have me pull a plug then re-plug the system

to have the issue fixed.

Great! But why did it have to be outsourced  

to a service person half way around the world?

  

Playing Around Under the Marquee

After leaving a gallery opening Thursday evening, I saw this group 

of young people playing around outside the Circle Theatre, 

taking one others' pictures before 

they entered the concert hall for an event.

Sunrise on the Soccer Field

We were blessed with an absolutely gorgeous sunrise this morning. 

As I walked to the bus stop, I heard birds chirping from

the surrounding trees. As the sun came up it created a golden aura

that enriched everything in its path.

The soccer field near the elementary school was covered with

a heavy mist reflecting the sun's rays from its surface.

It was interesting to see what a bit of difference in the picture

a few feet could make. The top picture was taken about

thirty feet further on than the one at the bottom,

which is a bit closer to the color as I initially saw it.

Portrait of the Bus Driver

On my way to work yesterday morning, 

while our bus was stopped in traffic, I happened to notice 

the bus driver's face reflected in her rear view mirror.

So here it is, an on the job portrait of the bus

driver in her milieu, driving a bus full

of people to their jobs. 

Textured Tuesday: Jackson Pollack Had a Lilac Period

Who knew?

There is a nice touch of yellow scattered throughout,

a deft complement to the lilac splashed and

dribbled over the asphalt.

What the hell were they painting and why on earth

are there sneaker prints on the pavement?

Who just could not avoid walking through something

as obvious as lilac colored paint?

Doh.

For the One I Talk to at Night

I listen to the rain falling outside, tapping against my bedroom window

as I lie snuggled beneath my comforter, warm against the damp night air.

The cat is getting on with her life at the front of my apartment;

I can hear her leap from the couch into the window

to watch the night critters that pass outside.

Sometimes, she wakes me as she does battle with a passing

tomcat, yowling with offense and punching the window

with her paws, lethal, scarring blows. That is, they would be

if her battle had not had the window to act as her shield.

Turtle is asleep on the other side of the room,

sometimes scrunched into her shell, other times

sprawled on the mulch in her box.

I lie in the dark, listening to my little family,

and think of you, the way the silver in your hair

shines, a galaxy of stars against the night.

You make me laugh and brighten my day. 

I recall the sound of your voice as you greeted your crew.

Good morning, angels, I heard you say and smiled 

as I began my own work. Your little team happily 

did your bidding because you managed to make 

the work lighter for everyone.

I imagine our conversations, mundane as hell --

(There are responses here, but they sound like

 a bass version of Charlie Brown's teacher.)

Do you think my book is okay?

Does it make sense? Will anyone like it?

Does my hair look okay?

Do you think my blue dress fits well?

And so it goes, a liberated woman, comfortable

with being by myself, yet too insecure to seek the company

of the man I've wanted for so long.  As I drift off to sleep, I imagine 

what it would be like to lightly trace the furrows in his brow,

easing his own worries away, and to answer the question marks

I see in his blue eyes with kisses. 

Maybe tomorrow.

OK, OK ... It's Georgia O'Keeffe in Speedway

Tulips, while simple in appearance, offer complications that contribute 

to a life long fascination with their many shapes and colors.

It's no wonder the Dutch created an entire economic bubble based

entirely on the tulips' bulbs.

I can easily see how one's mind can get wrapped around 

and in the erotic, sensuous shapes of the petals and stamens,

the way a petal feels when it is brushed against the skin.

Never mind Fifty Shades of Gray, the layers of shadow created

by the overlapping colors of flowers, the visits of the bees

collecting pollen, and the delicate touch of a hummingbird's

tongue as its long bill extracts nectar, lend themselves

to hints of pleasure to be obtained, just by imagining 

the erotic lives of flowers. 

So many otherwise modest people have planted

 veritable orgies in their front yards.

He's In the Hole!

I got to the bus stop this morning just before the bus was due. 

 As I looked up the street, I caught a bit of movement

out the corner of my eye. I turned towards the tree to see 

a young squirrel moving in and out the of its

nest in the tree. It checked its environment, sniffed the

surroundings, darting in and out of the opening several times

before going about its daily business elsewhere on

the tree and in the park.

Blushing With Effort

The rain earlier this week ended around mid-morning.

I'd gone to the Herron School of Art & Design on business,

 where I saw these white tulips outside the entrance.

The blooms were so big they'd nearly overwhelmed their stems. 

When the rain collected in the blooms, the flowers

just laid down their burden to wait for drier weather.