For the most part, the last five weeks or so I’ve been doing the same loop through the neighborhood on my walk, one direction or the reverse…mostly what was originally the reverse, lately, and is now the way I go.
Things change, however.
Today I ventured down to this relative high spot where I can see mid-town…here over a security fence. Can’t help thinking about security today (the birthday of an assassinated man), and this week (hopefully without another assassination)….
This tree is making a go of it in a terrible spot—for it. For the lot owners, it is in a perfect location…far enough from the house to not endanger it, and close enough to buffer it from neighbor-houses and neighbor-people.
The house was built on a flat spot carved deeply into brown-orange clayey subsoil, subsoil that lacks the air and nutrients that the tree needs. And so the tree sends its roots across the ground-surface in search of sustenance and avoiding the useless (to it) claggy clay.
I found it so bright, right at the moment I looked up at this sycamore with its brilliant white branches, that I was surprised to see clouds.
I’ve been passing this pair for days, and I liked the light today…and how you can see them, too!
Totally different scene, yet: fantastic light.
Well, now. I looked at the moss on this log and thought, oh, nice. Then I spotted the feather, and though: geeze, how’d that happen?
It seems that some folks sent to WashDC by voters who couldn’t previously do so found their “big-boy” pants today, and did the right thing.
The beech branch/tree in the photo is not implicated in the action discussed above.
Back in the Late Middle Ages™ when I lived in the Midwest, the clothing of the seasons transitioning to and from winter included a plaid long-sleeved shirt of some kind, perhaps a vest, and a tame color scheme that worked with and did not contrast with blue-jeans.
Looks like, without trying, I ticked all the boxes today.
However, what does it mean that by the end of my walk I had removed the vest and the plaid, and was down to my long-sleeved cotton T with a screen-printed design that promotes the UP?…as I lumbered along.
We received a postcard today from a well-meaning sender: please vote in the Senatorial election, and please vote for Warnock and Ossoff. That is: the election of the 5th of Jan.
Yeah, the Republicans messed up the PO…and we got a Republican Party “Please Vote” mailing on Saturday (that is, on the 9th, well after the election). So the Republican Party did not believe that the Republican disruption of the PO would delay their mailings.
I cannot parse all this.
Also: do not stay on the bench.
Here’s another specimen that blooms earlier than its brethren—a rhododendron! The Interweb reports that (somewhere?) it symbolizes danger. However, I’d say this one’s in danger—of frost and cold weather!
Well, now; my yesterday oops meant we spent our money from the Pres, that really came from you and me and you and you and you over there, too. And some savings.
And this consumer jaunt meant We Went To The Mall. We had a mission: to pick up a new laptop. We parked, we went in headed to the Apple Store…which was no longer across from Macy’s…wha?
Oh, “down the hall.” Cast our penetrating gazes about…there THERE it is!
But, nice lady says, no, you want downstairs…wha? Apple Store is now on two levels (mall has three). So much for our in-and-out without distraction strategy.
DOWNstairs. Yup. Nice man made the transaction happen…while I peeked around the corner at the new-device check-out area, presently closed to consumers because…Covid.
The six lovely trees poke up into the second story space reserved for tech assistance. Yay, nature.
In mall behavior footnote: every—EVERY—one I saw was wearing a mask. HOWEVER. Most people were wandering lackadaisically about…having totally missed the message AFTER Wear A Mask…the one that went: and Stay At Home and Away From Other People.
No wonder Covid rates are phenomenally high.
In other news, today I found an Iron Age twirly-horned cow sculpture behind a fence. That’s what I’m calling it.
Although: perhaps a lady-aurochs not a cow.