The Colors Where I Live

After a chilly, rainy week, Saturday dawned bright and clear.

The crisp air accented hues of autumn colors usually associated

 with places where other people live.

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.

Traffic Cone Work Day

I've often wondered how traffic cones got to work, now I know -

they meet at the highway department then share a ride 

to the work site. This time they've been assigned to assist in the

grading and repaving of a stretch of 25th Street, 

just off High School Road.

About every twelve feet or so, each cone leaped off the truck

to take its station, creating a phalanx of orange designed to 

separate the work area from the cars and trucks traveling along

the street. The cones have their own guards; at each end of the project,

a woman was stationed with a STOP sign that she used to

control and guide the flow of traffic throughout the day.

Swimming: Mesmerizing Sparkle

I wish I could effectively describe the beauty of the scene. 

As I waited tonight to begin a practice session at the IUPUI Natatorium 

swimming pool, I watched members of local area high schools 

conduct their own; those schools that don't have facilities of their own

come to the Natatorium to practice. The place was a hive of activity.

The water sparkled like fireworks with the movement of 

teenagers swimming length upon length of the pool.

Their progress back and forth in the lanes resembled rows

of little ducks in a carnival gallery.

The colors and shapes were mesmerizing.

My own coach seems to always be admonishing me to not 

lift my head when I breathe, to instead just turn it to the side. 

I try, I try. Just when I feel I'm doing it correctly, I sometimes hear

a reminder from the deck to keep my head down.

Watching the kids swim Tuesday night, I saw an illustration of what I was doing;

 a girl was lifting her head on every stroke - and breathing like a carp.

"Oh, so that's what he means," I thought.

I spent my own practice time actively reminding myself

to shove my face into the water, to look at the bottom as I exhaled,

and at the lane markers when I breathed.
I wished a coach had been there to help the girl,
just as mine has been helping me.

Each in His Own Way ...

Moved by the spirit, each man has gone about expressing his belief, 

his image of Christ to suit his own reality.

Wha ...? How Long Have You Been Here?

Honestly, I don't know how many times over the past gazillion years 

I've walked past a parking garage on Ohio Street, 

and even looked at the stairwell. 

But Saturday morning was the first time 

I was open to its austere balance, a beauty in grays 

that reminded me of some of the early 20th century paintings 

by Kasamir Malevich or Theo Van Doesburg.

Artist, Kasimir Malevich

Painting by Theo Van Doesburg,