It's a Berry Gray Day

On Thursday, the day's colors were not much different 

at dawn than they were at dusk.

The overcast was the shade of the gray cardboard
that backs pads of notepaper.
I'd gone to McDonald's for a latte, hot and sweet,
where I watched the modest folk at nearby
tables, chatting with friends and spouses over
their McGriddles and orange juice.
Outside, I saw the red berries shining out
from the pale gold grasses that border the highway.
I left to take a few pictures, wending my
way between parked cars to get to the little
grove of trees. The scarlet dance of the berries 
was the brightest color I saw all day.

Concrete Evidence

A section of a street near my home is having its surface ground down, 

then repaired and repaved. When this has been completed, 

new curbs are being installed, as needed. Here, one can see evidence 

of the heavy equipment used to perform the work; 

the tread marks of the dump trucks and grinders left behind 

where they were driven through the wet conctete slurry. 

Art in Speedway: Mark Rothko

I knew when the landscape workers planted the roadside 

last year, that that area along Crawfordsville Road 

would provide interesting colors for pictures.

Last week, while waiting to cross the highway there,

I looked up to see the flowers, grasses, and trees

had grown to provide long bands of color

resembling Mark Rothko paintings.

Rothko (1903-1970) was an Abstract Expressionist whose color field 

paintings employ subtle changes in transparency and 

opacity, light and dark to draw the viewer into his works.

Rothko wanted people to experience his paintings in this way,

in order that they have some emotional involvement

in his work, rather than just view them as surface

decoration then walk away.

Hundreds of people drive by this roadside garden 

each day without noticing the luminosity 

of the leaves, the subtle changes in value

of the bands of color that separate them from the

banal architecture just beyond.

A Mark Rothko painting.

Early Autumn Tapestry

The trees and plants are beginning to show their autumn colors. 

The weather has been mild, without the chill one associates

with the sudden appearance of the reds and golds,

but they're here just the same. These flower bushes were

planted along the nearby highway last fall and,

much like the tapestries of old, serve to hide the visual

confusion of myriad fast-food restaurants, as well

as to provide insulation from the incessant traffic noise

for people on the other side of the landscaping. 

Textured Tuesday: Rough Leaves and Little Yellow Flowers

There are myriad reasons why these two plants, being placed 

so closely to each other pleases me. First, the rough texture of the  leaves

against the field of tiny yellow flowers just contrast so well

with each other. The big leaves sometimes catch the sun, appearing

almost like jewels in the light, framed by 

the small, lace-like blooms.

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.

Textured Tuesday: Order/Disorder

The construction workers have nearly completed work on the new overpass 

and exits near my home. There are crosswalks marked by brick pavers

verging on the asphalt pavement, where anarchic gravel appears to have over-run

the machine-like precision of the raised dots on the bricks.

Newly Planted

During my walk to the grocery Saturday morning, 

I noticed that an assortment of flowers, grasses, trees and shrubs

have been planted alongside the newly configured and

repaved Crawfordsville Road. The plants have a natural look

and, once grown, will serve to hide the ugly fast-food

buildings, as well as provide a buffer for traffic noise.

The plants are also getting their

 own irrigation system.

Jasper Johns in Speedway

So far, I've been unable to find the Roman numerals 

I thought were so evocative of Jasper Johns' work. These numbers 

were spray painted onto a section of concrete traffic barrier placed

along Crawfordsville Road during construction work.

I'm certain they mean something to the workmen responsible

for grading, laying the foundation, and paving the road bed, but they

mean nothing to me, except as color and pattern in an odd place.

Strata

I went back to the highway this morning to see the newly laid pavement.

(Really, I just had to cross the road on my way to get an early

morning latte.) As usual, I was struck by the textures carved into

the old pavement by the concrete saws and grading equipment, and

the differing colors between the old layers of cement and asphalt.

Here looking like a sun flare, the tarry adhesive has been splashed

onto the retaining wall. Centuries from now, if the warring human species 

survives its own stupidity, archaeologists will be spinning in their

pith helmets trying to figure out the drink cups, water bottles,

and beer cans thrown into the site by workers and

passers-by. But what about the rocks? Will it matter that the material

used to make the roadbed has come from a different place

than where it was found? Will they confuse the sometimes

beautiful textures for art (as I do)? 

Eh, they won't give a fuck.

Hot Day, Hotter Tar

...with sweaty men caught in between.

Meet Mark, driver of the roller machine that smooths the newly

 laid asphalt being installed at the intersection of Crawfordsville Road

and Interstate-74. It was about 9 in the morning and temperatures

were already high, reaching 100 degrees in the shade by

afternoon. He wasn't being lazy, but awaiting his turn in the process

 of making certain the pavement would be smooth and

would adhere to the roadbed bases installed earlier. 

The above shot is of the tarry adhesive that helps the asphalt

stay in place. When freshly laid, the heated asphalt is over

200 degrees. I was told that if I walked on it, it could melt the

soles of my sneakers. I chose to not challenge the

statement. The roller would be slowly driven over the

newly laid material, further compacting it and driving it

into the roadbed. 

The stretch of road above is ready to be paved by

the equipment below. Consisting of two separate sections,

the newly-made asphalt is put into the rear section, then picked

up by a conveyor belt to be pulled into the front machine.

The asphalt is then laid at a pre-determined depth on the 

roadbed, allowed to cool a bit, when it's then rolled

into the adhesive and foundation by Mark

and his machine.

Cat Lost His Hat

When I'm walking around Speedway and other places, 

there's no telling where artwork by various artists will show up.

Highway workers are laying a new roadbed on 

Crawfordsville Road that reminds me

of Andy Goldsworthy's work. 

But I never thought that the ubiquitous orange barrels 

that line highways all over the United States

would ever have found their origins

in Dr. Seuss's The Cat in the Hat.  

I like the rich, shiny blackness of new asphalt, 

here shown with the tan pea gravel 

and limestone base layers. As a kid,

I loved the smell of tar used by the street

pavers who had a company down the block

from my grandmother's house.

Here cord has been tightly strung along the roadbed, 

to mark the intended height of the pavement.

A sensor on the paving machinery 

will use the cord as a guide to the correct depth

and, as I understand it, will adjust accordingly

as it moves along.

Laying Brick

A few days ago, I saw a couple men working to replace 

the brick facing on one of the light stanchions 

that line the Crawfordsville Road entry into Speedway. 

The road is being widened to accommodate 

additional traffic from the new exits 

being constructed just beyond, at I-74 and I-465.

The men doing the work are mature. 

This must be an easy job for them, but I'm happy 

to see that grown men have a job, and that 

their skills are appreciated.

Here, an earlier shot shows a crew dismantling 

one of the original lights. They saved the original 

stanchions and the medallions from the centers 

of the bases, as well as some of the rebar.

Dirt Has A New Home

For years, whenever Carl and I drove to Marietta to go to our boat, 

we'd pass through long areas of Interstate 70 as it 

was being revised, repaved and rebuilt. 

I was especially fascinated by the methods used 

to construct the roadbed. Since we went nearly every week, 

I could watch the process unfold but was always 

frustrated because we couldn't stop to explore or ask questions.

Now, the process is going on just outside my door, so to speak. 

I took the opportunity, meaning to take some pictures of the barriers

only and found myself exploring the materials 

used to construct a roadbed. Woo hoo!

The green stuff is ReBar, used to strengthen

and reinforce the concrete. The bent bars resembling

large hairpins, are poked into the roadbed with straight lengths

of the same material woven among them, 

as well as wire mesh resembling fencing.

 The concrete is then poured to a specified depth

 amid and over the pins/rebar.  

Of course, we've all had to deal with these concrete barriers,

which make up the temporary lane dividers as the work is being done.

Sometimes, it feels like passing through an obstacle course, where 

every motorized conveyance from staid limo to mad hooptie

is funneled through a gerbil trail. Here the segments are

stacked, awaiting duty 

All day, dump trucks full of dirt and other debris enter 

this cordoned area about a quarter mile south of home. 

They've created a mountain range of soil which will form 

the base of a new exit ramp. I don't know 

where it comes from, but there's a lot of it.

 I hope they plant flowers and trees in it.

Yellow Barrier/Berries

The nearby highway interchange is being widened 

and reconfigured to accommodate the increased traffic.

In the process, Crawfordsville Road is also being 

updated, with temporary barriers installed

while the new lanes are constructed.

While crossing the road last week, I noticed the 

bright yellow bull-nose on the barrier

was the same hue as the berries just beside my feet.

Planning Dreams

One clear evening, I went to the west end of my neighborhood, 

to a place where I could stand alongside the highway 

to get a good view of the sunset. The exchanges to enter and exit

Interstate 74 from I-465 have been torn up for the past year to create wider lanes and more sweeping, easier to navigate turns. 

Some of it has been completed and drivers have been happy 

to make use of the new pavement.

Since I was a girl, I've been fascinated by the contrails left behind

by jets as they fly over the place I stand, rooted to the ground.

I especially like to see the skies in the morning and evenings, when the

contrails of many planes seem to intersect, weaving descriptions

of their journeys, just as the cars and trucks speeding past me on 

the highway were creating theirs. Early in our long relationship, 

Carl caught me watching the planes and pointed some of them out to me,

partly in jest, telling me where it was headed and its altitude. 
I understood then that, just like the trucks on the road, 
each plane had its specified lane, its place in the sky. 

He brought me outdated Jeppessen aeronautical charts, 

which I still have, describing the routes. 

I loved them then and still do. The picture below, showing 

the Indianapolis area, was scanned from an old Jeppessen 

United States Low Altitude En Route chart.