Just About Tripped Over Him, I Did

Just as my bus crossed over the bridge 

at the Broad Ripple Canal, I looked over to see 

this heron standing beside towpath to the canal. 

I got off the bus a few feet further on 

and found the bird had not been startled away. 

I got my camera out of my backpack and was able 

to get a few pictures of the heron.

He was only about twenty-five feet away.

Generally, they seem to be very shy creatures 

flying away at the first appearance of a human

(this one, anyway), so I count myself lucky 

to have gotten this shot of a bit of

Indy's urban wildlife. 

Zip Code Tour: In My Backyard

In the fifty years of their careers, I'd never seen either 

the Rolling Stones or any of the Beatles perform. 

When the Stones announced that they'd be playing 

the Indianapolis Motor Speedway, 

I knew I could not pass it up; instead of being in 

some distant city, the band was going to be

 at what is practically my backyard.

When I went to the IMS ticket office on Friday,

I was told by the saleswoman that, while Mick would

be very small, there would be two large video screens 

that would project the concert. I was at least able to get

a spot front and center to the stage, after I arrived at the

track infield Saturday afternoon. Generally used for parking,

the area was covered in white rock. I wondered just how

my "Bronze" area was better than that of the "Silver"

area on the other side of the barrier. 

How were their white rocks an improvement 

over my own patch of gravel?

Other than proximity to the stage, there really was 

no difference. I put my blanket down, 

followed by my bum, and settled in for the duration.

I was glad I'd come early to claim a spot

because the areas became increasingly filled with spectators 

as the time for the Stones' appearance grew closer.

After two bands, Saint Valory and Rascal Flatts 

performed, the Rolling Stones took the stage to a burst 

of red fireworks, working the stage for

two hours, a performance that would have

been tiring for much younger men.

(There are no fat Stones, only flat ones.)

I've been to performances of other musicians

who basically could have mailed in their work.

Not so the Rolling Stones, who sang, played, danced,

and riffed their way through their set list.

Yeah, Mick and the boys were teeny, tiny 

figures from my viewpoint, but the music was grand.

IMS will listen to the grousing from the fans

 to make improvements for future concerts.

As for myself, I was satisfied.