Wannabe Terrazzo

These spots of sidewalk are located just outside 

the entry to the IUPUI Natatorium,

heaved above the level pavement by the winter cold.

 Rather than dig them up and replace them,

crews have taken to smoothing down the

uneven edges to match their mates.

You can see the arcs made by the grinders, 

reflected by the light from the wet pavement.

Earth Day Dawned ...

... Not bright and clear, but with cold rain whipped 

by gusts of wind and thunder.

I went to swim practice this morning,

my new blue training fins sticking out from

a pocket on my backpack.

The irony was not lost on me --

that I should huddle and cringe from the rain,

all the while looking forward to jumping

into a pool full of coolish water.

There, I would relish the feel of my body

pushing through the clear liquid,

knowing that later I would stand, stolid

and miserable under my umbrella,

as I waited for the bus to return home.

Rainy in Speedway

I walked over to the grocery late this morning. 

It was overcast with light showers then.

When I left the store heavy showers drenched 

the neighborhood. Rain ran down the sides of the bus stop 

where I took the first picture, and added strings 

of crystal pendants to the benches.

Grids and Cocoons

Just a bit over a week from spring, 

the colors are subdued.

 People walk amid the grayed swashes,

 their patterns creating the cocoons

that envelop us in their

light and shadow.

Drizzly Night

This may easily be one of the more F'd up pictures

 I've ever taken, but I don't care. I like it.

What started out to be an image of four cyclists, 

possibly delivery men for a couple 

of the nearby restaurants, became a layered 

image showing the intersection 

of three separate stories, not one.

From the inside, there's me reflected in

the Starbucks' window, the tan and green plaid

of my jacket showing faintly at the corner.

Then there's the shopper passing through

the scene, a shallow blur of anonymity, 

while the four men chat among themselves 

near the bicycle stand.

Crystal and Azure

Outside, the day is silver

The rain makes a crystal curtain

between that time of dreams 

and daylight.

Everyone needs a dream

to make the disappointments tolerable,

Something to reach for.

I reach for you, pull you to me, in me.

Your warmth spreads inside

Until I burst into stars

and rise, laughing,

to kiss your azure eyes.

Stray Silverware

It was after work. 

Another rainstorm had just begun 

as I entered the bus stop shelter

to wait for my ride.

I came to the fork in the road

and knew I must make a decision --

will I go to swim practice, knowing 

the downpour would likely

cause it to be canceled?

Or will I go around the corner

for the next bus home?

I waited another thirty minutes --

no bus, but plenty of rain.

Somebody came along to throw the fork

into the bushes, but my decision

had been made. I went home.

Sometimes, one just needs a little prod.

Delineations

After a thunderstorm, I went outside for a walk.

The rain had presented me with a drawing,

a subtle gray composition on the heaved sidewalk

where straight and scribbly intersected

to balance each other.

Bummer: Swimmers ...

 ... Beached.

It doesn't look it, but the water in this section 

of the Riviera Club pool is three feet deep.

When I got off the bus at the club's entrance, I felt

light raindrops on my face. I looked west,

towards the Speedway area and the clouds were

dark, filled with rain. I remembered "Indy 500"

telecasts from years ago, when the announcers would

have occasion to say, "It's raining in Terre Haute,"

about 70 miles away, and know we had about 

an hour before the front reached us.

Saturday morning, as I walked up the drive,

the clouds were in Speedway, only about 

five minutes from the pool. The shower 

turned into a nice thunderstorm, 

trapping about a dozen people,

who're not ordinarily averse to being wet,

under the veranda, away from flashes of lightning

and thunder. For about an hour folks chatted, then went 

their separate ways, some to find an indoor pool, 

others to wait until Monday afternoon.

Rainy Day/Sipping Chai

I sit, sipping chai,

gazing out the window

at the gray, drizzly morning.

I think of you last evening 

as you strode across the room.

I caught a glimpse of your bare back

above the waistband of your jeans,

And longed to touch your smooth skin,

To feel its taut silk beneath my fingertips

where it curves along your spine.

So close. So far away, you may as well 

be walking on the moon.

But the warm smell of you,

Even in my imagination, 

brings comfort to the cold rain

of my days.

A Muted Rush

This is the introverted part of the day,

when the city's rush is muted by the rain, 

it's sound hushed by the spray

from tires on the pavement,

whispering their agreement.

Umbrellas, bright as flowers,

bob along the street,

Sprung from a garden of people

 cringing inside their coats. 

Heads down, strides choppy as they 

proceed to the day's work,

they rarely look around as they

"connect" with a disembodied other,

closer to voices than to people.

Sidewalk Shots

The weather Thursday evening was hot and muggy, 

too heavy with moisture to not rain.

When I left the Natatorium, the clouds had finally

broken down, releasing the moisture 

 in great splotches of rain.

The storm stopped as I walked to the bus stop,

during which I found these pictures.

Temperatures were so warm that the rain had already 

begun to evaporate from the sidewalks.

After the Rain

Rain entered the Indianapolis area 

late Monday afternoon. It fell heavily, 

straight down, for what seemed like an hour.

When I returned home later that evening, 

the sun had started to break through the clouds.

One could see patches of clear blue sky

behind the gray overcast.

I went to the edge of the property 

to take a few pictures of the sun 

as it settled in for the evening, 

just beyond the tree line.

I imagined its hot, round bottom

nestling down onto the rain-soaked ground

sending up the clouds of steam

that created the smoky backdrop

for the passing trucks on I-465.

A Watery Evening

Afternoon thunderstorms were forecast for the area 

and they hit practically as if scheduled.

I left work just after the worst of the watery

onslaught had passed through, only to have my co-workers

and myself repeatedly splashed by passing drivers.

The rain let up enough so that I didn't get soaked between

buses or walking the last couple blocks 

to the Natatorium.Which brings to mind another 

little conundrum: why is it that I don't mind 

swimming for more than an hour, 

yet get all pissy because I have to go out

into the rain afterwards? I'm as fussy as a cat

about getting my feet wet, stepping around, leaping,

and dodging puddles as though I was was shod 

in a pair of Jimmy Choo's finest satin pumps.

Useful Detritus

Work crews installing new lines for the electrical company 

left their tools ready for use Monday morning.

However, each crew seemed to treat the tools with various 

degrees of respect; while this crew at least made an effort to place

their shovels, broom, and supplies in the scoop of their backhoe,

others left them where they were tossed in a pile of sand.

Rain-soaked doughnuts were abandoned to the elements, 

with only their sugar coating melted by the rain.

Eeuw. 

Textured Tuesday: A Beautiful Mess

On a windy and soggy afternoon, the first thing I encountered 

when I arrived downtown was this ground light,

filled with matted wet leaves thrust into its base by gusts of wind.

All the autumn colors seem to be represented,

creating a sodden wreath around the light to remind

us of the changes brought to us with fall weather.

Art in Indy: Childe Hassam

A storm front went through the Indianapolis area Sunday, 

bringing heavy rain and severe wind gusts. 

This photo was taken around 4 p.m. from a reception room window 

overlooking Monument Circle on the second floor of the Circle Theatre. 

The giant candy cane and toy soldier in the background 

are a part of the holiday decor on the Circle.  

The rainy scene reminded me of the city scapes by American Expressionist 

painter, Childe Hassam (1859-1935). The scene shown above,

Rainy Day on Fifth Avenue, was painted in 1893 and is among the

most familiar of Hassam's paintings portraying daily life 

in New York City. 

There were two concerts Sunday afternoon. The first was another performance 

by the Indianapolis Symphony Orchestra of the Ravel and Debussy works

scheduled for the weekend, while the New World Youth Orchestra, 

made up from talented middle and high school musicians

played a late afternoon concert. Among the pieces they performed 

was the Concerto in A minor for Piano and Orchestra 

by Robert Schumann. The pianist for the occasion was

Jeeyoon Kim, a native of Korea who, in addition to her concert 

and recital appearances, lives in Indianapolis where she

 teaches keyboard at Butler University.

The Trees' Dance

All day, the gray skies hung over the city, 

rain dampening the afternoon as well as the mood.

Against that backdrop, trees performed a strip tease, 

releasing their leaves, one by one. 

The air was filled with the golden paillettes,

floating, swirling, twirling, and gently gyrating their

way to the ground as the trees swayed

to the music of the breeze.

Caught in the Act

Thursday night's rain storm blew all but the most determined 

of leaves to the ground. A berry bush that edges a parking lot had

its leaves and fruit strewn all around its base.

While already grounded, the leaves in the top picture appeared

to arrange themselves as though falling.

The leaves below were balanced by the few red

berries arcing away from the stem.

November Theme Day: Heights

For today's post, I'd intended to ascend the south face of Annapurna,

then show a picture of the vista from atop the mountain.

And if you believe that, then I have a little mountain range in Nepal

I'd like to sell you. Cheap.

Instead, I braved a rain storm to go swimming Thursday evening.

The irony of that was not lost on me: I cleaned up

to go outside into the rain, arrived at the Natatorium where

I spent over an hour swimming lengths. 

I then left the pool to shower, change clothes and

return to the rain, where wind gusts were whipping the

trees into a frenzy and  where broken and dying

umbrellas had been thrown into the nearest trash can.

A massacre, a veritable slaughter of stripped nylon

and metal ribs, torn apart by the wind.

So, I have pictures of the Chase Tower in the rain,

patterns of subtly colored fluorescent lights

illuminating its windows.

To see other contributions to today's theme, Heights, 

just click on the above link or on the City Daily Photo badge 

at the top right column of this page. 

There will be contributions from all over the world, 

most of them more interesting than the Chase Tower, 

and maybe even one from Nepal.