Wednesday, 25 December 2019
Pansy season here in ATL. BTW, we celebrated today with neither goose nor turkey. Tofu only…in a lovely melange with Thai curry sauce, veg, mint, and fresh cilantro. The two of us…and a beautiful sunny day perfect for a long walk down streets normally too busy with cars to enjoy. 🚶♀️
I am darned ignorant of architectural detail design memes, and have no idea what the elements of this mean/represent/indicate, especially the center.
Saturday, 21 December 2019
So, Christmas—headlined in the banner—is about Jesus, and facts about his life are slim. As I understand it, the drummer boy is singular, and added to the mythology L-O-N-G after the man died. So, that here there are twins wearing outfits modeled on modern military uniforms means…this is an example of sociopolitical evolution.
WDM? [Meaning, what doesn’t match?]
Thursday, 19 December 2019
Driving across North America, we usually seek a balance between moving along and stopping for necessities. This necessity stop was in Greenville, Mississippi, where the county welcome center is a pseudo-steamboat.
With informative and well-made displays upstairs about local residents and events. This is the home county of Jim Henson, and where he invented Kermit the Frog (they use “born”)…one of the many facts I didn’t know about US history.
We kept our easterly bearing and happily joined good friends for sober discussions, great laughs, and yummy eats—big thanks to all—in the shadow of this bathouse. If the builder is Batman, then his sidekick is his son?, therefore Robin? I hear it took the bats a while to find/occupy it, and over fifty did this year, and it is supposed to be able to hold hundreds more. Looking forward to hearing next seasons population….
Mr LateNight aka the Guru piloted us along a kinky route around Tupelo, dodging a major new interchange under construction in Birmingham, and avoiding daytime traffic by a nighttime run, no Coors on board. We are not bootleggers.
With the higher population density of cities, you gotta expect to encounter wacky human-stuff more often in urban areas than in rural, low-population density places. Welcoming us to Atlanta, and explosion of lemon slices. Wha?
And a red light that won’t change, while no vehicles pass through the green-light directions. Ah, home. Glad to be here at 3:10am here time, trying to think of it as merely 1:10am, as it is in Santa Fé.
And this is the reason for my delayed post, signified as always by the 10:22pm time stamp.
Friday, 13 December 2019
These photos all are of places within a 15-minute walk of the state capitol building. Scout’s honor: 15-minutes.
I find this scruffy house on a double lot oddly eye-catching.
Near as I can tell, this construction is most commonly called a walk-through gate in these parts. This short section of road can’t be driven on, but foot traffic and bicycles can make it through. These are the most heavy-duty walk-through gates I’ve seen.
On another path, I found this foot bridge over a channelized drainage. In case you decide to spend time here, find reading material in this little free library.
Not many steps later I found this undeveloped land signed “Private Property,” although I think my mapping apps show it as a park. Again: this is within a 15-minute walk of the state capitol.
A windmill survives in two parts in this parking lot for rental units. Looks beheaded now.
I came out this alley and proceeded through the “Begin One Way” signs straight ahead. Yup, the right-of-way narrows, as you might expect. Note that is is a sandy gravel road, with surviving ice blobs and muddy spots even today.
As I walked along, I was passed by a Ford Focus, then this fancy Porsche. Someone in an expensive car visiting or living in a house on a dirt road less than a ten-minute walk from the state capitol. The Porsche is waiting for a gap in the traffic on the Old Santa Fé trail…a main drag, no?
Not sure what to make of these observations, but I note that the civic-ceremonial zone here in New Mexico’s political center gives way to residential buildings quite quickly—within two blocks—and that residential zone may not have fancy capital improvements 😀.
Thursday, 12 December 2019
Fascinated by the “regular” mailbox cemented into the stucco “adobe” wall.
Sidewalk luck.
Where’s…oh, you get it.
Note tabby and horno. And pig toy/sculpture, lower left. That’s the most accoutrement-ed horno I’ve ever noticed/seen.
The Guru took Droney for a quick flight. That curved wall building is the capitol (behind the dark red-brown roof).
We took a short drive south to Lamy.
Amtrak stops here, and it’s the closest stop to Santa Fé, if I have it right. We were lucky to be there when the train stopped…and left maybe five minutes later.
Abandoned? parked caboose. Unnecessary in the digital world.
Glass insulators are still in use in these parts in some rural lines. The Guru says these are for telephone/communications not electricity. The pairs are a clue.
We walked to dinner, which means after sunset (before 5pm), and after the cold is setting in. Brr. But, we’re tough. After dark means opportunities for computational photography—yay!
Monday, 9 December 2019
Our first big adventure was to drive into—and out of—an extinct volcano.
We followed the Jemez River up. It’s in the previous shot, too. Between the river and the road is a ridge locally called soda dam. Long gone hot springs created the deposit, layer upon layer.
This is approximately the crest of the caldera rim. It’s not edgy and distinct. We were glad it was warm and sunny, and the crud on the road was melting, even in the shadows.
This is the Valle Grande of the caldera. It’s huge. You are looking at no more than a “corner” of the interior. All those ridges across the VG are on the floor of the caldera. Huge.
Descending toward Los Alamos (the willows) on the other outer flank, we could see the mountains on the other side of the Rio Grande Valley. Such landscapes!
Outside the lava territory of the volcano-lands, we saw different kinds of rock and landforms. That is the extent of my geology knowledge on this. 😇
Our second big adventure was to walk downtown for a fancy dinner, just as the sunset was glowing over the rooftops in the neighborhood…very soon to fade.
The plaza trees are festooned with lights. And the moon was up.
Food porn. I had elk tenderloin with mushroom sauce and veggies. Perfection.
Plaza lights as we traced our steps homeward, after full dark.
Highly computational photo. Stunning.
And the super-great adventure? Thirty years since our wedding. 🥂🍾 😃
Friday, 6 December 2019
Billy the Kid was incarcerated here at the combo courthouse/jail in Lincoln County, New Mexico, in 1881. He managed to escape, and was murdered by a “friend” about ten weeks later.
That gap is Capitán Gap. It’s where a singed bear cub was found in 1950. He soon was named Smokey the Bear. And the rest was history.
Saw feeding sandhills by the dozen, plus ducks and geese of various sorts at Bosque del Apache, in the Rio Grande valley. We didn’t ask officials about this strange dark coloration; that creature clearly had the red details on the head, however.
We did enjoy the arboretum etc walk by the Bosque visitor center. I will spare you from any more of the dozens of photos we shot there.
Stopped at the Harvey House Museum in Belen. Businesses all around the area each sponsored the decorating of a tree or a room. It was great to see the community support, but I found it difficult to imagine this as the dining room back when it was a Harvey House. The waitresses had rooms upstairs.
Special night at the Indian Pueblo Cultural Center in Albuquerque. We got to see the Apache Dancers and hear their caller/singer, who also drummed. How special. This was the before-dark performance.
The second, after-dark performance was super-charged. The fire made a huge difference. We got ashes from the fire afterward to keep with us in the pickup for good luck, as directed by the chanter, along with most of the folks who stayed until the end (cold, about 40°F, brr). Actually, these are religious and spiritual events, not presentations or performances. I liked that.
This entry might have been better titled “Hinge points,” but I couldn’t resist “Swing nose frog.” It refers to a particular switcher set-up for rails. Thank you, Harvey House.
Thursday, 5 December 2019
I almost titled this “Sin papas,” which is Spanish for without potatoes, which is how I ordered my breakfast—in English—and actually what the order-taker told the cook. Delightful veggie scramble bowl, I had. Sin papas.
More mundanity: traffic light being fixed. Under solid overcast.
Sky is clearing as we pass below Buchanan Dam, holding back the Colorado. Which today looks blue not colorado, Spanish for reddish, dark rusty brown, I think.
We needed to stretch our legs and stopped in San Angelo. Immediately when we opened the doors, we heard a band playing across the lake, another dammed up section of the Colorado. We walked toward the band shell and found this lady posed with her own shell.
Band was playing piece after piece of band standards, mostly several together in medleys. Is this what bands typically do? The musicians were separated into two groups, each with its own conductor. The upper conductor was leading the whole thing, I’m pretty sure. There were active duty folk in the audience, several dignitaries on stage (one in uni), and I think the event was to honor a group that works with wounded warriors.
We are standing as requested for the final song, “Battle Hymn of the Republic.”
On the road again, and the scrub oaks we had seen most of the morning disappeared and we saw wind plants on the horizon.
Continuing westward, the skies became almost clear and we got into irrigated cotton lands. However, they have had some rain, and we saw puddles here and there, and water in the creeks/dry washes. For a time.
Cotton harvest. Round bales and large rectangular stacks. I think the four-digit numbers may designate which farmer is to be paid for the cotton.
Another gorgeous sunset, this one with a line of peaks in the far distance across a valley. We lost another hour and I’m rather discombobulated. And tired. G’night.
Tuesday, 3 December 2019
Turns out our word bayou is from a Frenchified Native American word. Most I’ve seen are like this—dredged and channelized.
Photographically, the high point was a morning walk in a wildlife preserve also known as a swamp. Lots of Spanish moss but no Spanish.
The trail took us back to open water—a lake? This bird kept its distance yet still was curious about us. Snowy egret.
Closer was this little blue heron, busy hunting and mostly ignoring us.
Back on the road we drove through an area with lots of ship-building, which appeared to be roadside but was really in nearby channels.
Later we got into a cane-growing zone. It is harvest season and a few guys and many machines were active. Lots of trailers, full and empty, moved the chopped plant material to…to…I assume presses?
Many bridges, a few high enough for ships to pass.
Much later we were in a traffic jam (no alternative routes), and the Guru made a new friend. Kinda.
And another spectacular sunset. Life is darned good. We sleep in Texas tonight. [Those two sentences not logically connected.]
Monday, 2 December 2019
Coming in from the east, we began our New Orleans wander in the Lower Ninth Ward. It’s mostly still abandoned with some pockets of trash remaining.
The Claiborne Avenue bridge crosses the flood control levees and a shipping canal, hence the section that will rise out of the way.
Downtown, finally. River. Riverboat.
Statue honoring emigrants to New Orleans. I might have chosen “immigrants.”
Jackson Square, with statue in the middle. [We won’t discuss which Jackson.] Cathedral named after Louis IX of France, the only French King who is a saint, so the name is Cathedral-Basilica of Saint Louis, King of France. Seems strange to have saint and king linked. So New Orleans.
New Orleans means beignets and café au lait at Café du Monde. Yes, the business has changed greatly since I first came here in 1967, but it’s still beignets and café au lait at Café du Monde.
New Orleans means street cars.
New Orleans means the maid of Orleans…here Joan is gilded.
New Orleans means upstairs balconies and architectural detail.
Sometimes the balconies are double-tiered.
Down at the market we found this gigantic bow, so large it takes multiple loops of chain to hold it.
Then we shifted neighborhoods and walked past legendary Tipitina’s. I was surprised to read it opened in 1977; I thought it was older. Must be the archaeologist in me.
Random building in the Touro quarter. It is quieter and very residential compared to the French quarter.
And, as my dear friend KW sometimes writes, that is all. 😀