Doughboy
Our neighborhood doughboy has been in residence, across the street from our flat, since 1920. My husband and I salute him on our evening walks. In 2010, we posed for engagement photos standing on his base. He moves me to recite the poetry of his contemporaries, allies and enemies alike. He’s a wonderful audience of one. I haven’t been so smitten with a statue since Montreal, circa 2004. That’s another story, and one you shan’t be told.
My mom was in town this weekend. I didn’t write anything, but I exchanged ideas with the clouds hanging over the river.
Riverfront view across to Kentucky.
Hardier souls in running shoes were doing drills up and down the stairs. We sat, staring off into the distance or talking. The clouds were almost close enough to pluck from the sky.
Riverfront Steps, Clouds Through the Bridge
We walked for miles, and met some very strange creatures…
A Pig Statue (it’s a Cincinnati thing)
Clouds hovering over the Princess Diana Tiara on Queen City Tower.
Archway, with a Sliver of Skyline in the Distance
One sunburn and several lovely memories later, I’m ready to hit the keyboard again.
I’m still toiling away at my Colossally Annoying Studio Clean-Out Project, Version 2012. I’m 90 percent there, aesthetically speaking. It took many dedicated hours to reach this point. A mental weight of approximately 999 pounds has been lifted! Unfortunately, the hard work is about to begin: sorting through the papers and notebooks hiding away in drawers and cabinets. Egads, do not get me started on this or I will shrink away in horror from the task. To right my mind, before dutifully getting back to my boring task, I am going to leave you with some cuddly puppy photographs as my Daily Diversion. It beats a progress photo of my studio any day.
Jennifer over at Quirk’n It made me think about crabs and, when I think about crabs, I think about my honeymoon. No, do not go there. We are discussing crustaceans here. Focus, people. This is a clean web-site (well, mostly). Enjoy these photos of my sweet dog, and wedding present, Duncan, trying his mightiest to catch a ghost crab (any ghost crab) on the beach in front of our honeymoon condo. He tried for a week, and came up empty after every effort.
“An early-morning walk is a blessing for the whole day.”-Henry David Thoreau
I’m not an early riser, but I like the idea of taking a morning constitutional. Not a plain old walk, mind you: a constitutional. Yes, yes…I know it means the same thing. The latter, however, sounds vigorous and lovely and a bit old-fashioned. As if it takes work, thought, planning. A clear head. For the last few weeks, I’ve been threatening to get up early (for me) and drag my husband to the cemetery down the street. A four-minute drive for an hour’s hike. After sunrise, but before the work day has dawned. It is such a tempting idea, in my head. On paper. The reality will likely find me achy and whiny and yawning for the first half an hour. Yet, yet… the destination is the above scene: vibrant, bright, wild. Serene. All in the shadow of the city. How long can I resist?
The sunset was almost enough to make romantics of us. I grasped his hand, compelled by nature to some kind of entry-level giddiness. I un-curled my toes and kicked the cool sand; it rained lightly over furtively scrambling ghost crabs. The dog whined on-leash. Bending over, a head pat; standing up on tip-toes, a hug and quick caress. Then one of us broke the sustained peace of the ocean breeze and lapping waves with a bad joke or punch on the arm. Ha, back to normal we went. Quickly, inward, like a collapsing house of cards. Laughing. Unromantic and inappropriate. Wisecracking. Bantering like Grant and Hepburn. Our normal. Content.
Honeymoon Sunset, Mexico Beach/Port St. Joe, Florida. June 2011.
Gentle giant
I’m a city girl but I like my urban living with a side of greenery, please. I like to call it tree tourism. We visited this handsome fella and several of his friends last week. You cannot tell from this photograph that the countryside is miles away. Hop in the car and three minutes later you are in the shadow of a different kind of titan, all concrete and steel and cold comeliness.
*”And this, our life, exempt from public haunt, finds tongues in trees, books in the running brooks, sermons in stones, and good in everything.”-William Shakespeare
A sun-dappled view among the shades
The views from the graveyard go on forever; they cross steep hills, tumble into valleys, and cross a breathtaking expanse of sky, all the while skipping across centuries. A sense of peace echoes about the place, and follows you wherever you look. Close your eyes, and it is still there. Tumult is absent. It is okay to step softly across the sod, and smile.
*”He loved, beneath all this summer transiency, to feel the earth’s spine beneath him.”-Virginia Woolf, Orlando
The road to nowhere…..
We’ll take that ride
[ We’ve walked this quiet path before. Started, only to stop and turn around precisely where the road drops off at the top of this photograph: discouraged by time or weather or the onset of a sudden, strange ennui. This time, encouraged by a chorus of chirping birds, and enveloped in a moving and pervasive sense of calm, we persevered.]
We’re on the road to paradise
….always ends somewhere.
One of the happiest couples I know.
This photograph has an almost pointillistic quality. That’s only fitting, considering that the affectionate couple is part of a topiary park that is a living version of a Georges Seurat painting.
Ideas often come alive for me at strange or inconvenient moments. After the ever-trusty shower, I usually feel the most open to creativity when I am…….
walking amongst graves. My husband and I are lucky to live a few minutes from the second largest cemetery in the United States. Established in 1845, it is equally an arboretum, with 15 lakes, trees, flowers and wildlife set within what, at times, looks like traditional parkland. Continue reading
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