Walking After the Rain

July 28, 2012 by scillagrace

Rain changes everything. After 4 weeks of drought, it refreshes the scent of the earth and the color of the grass. The corn leaves uncurl and look fuller, too. Here are some photos I took after (and during) a good thundershower on Thursday.

I posted a photo of this same porch about a month ago. The difference? Now the pots have flowers in them.

Hooray for folks who own and care for historic houses in my neighborhood!

Cloud in a puddle. Sounds like the name of an old recipe.

I hope your weekend is refreshing you!

Photo Walk

March 7, 2012 by scillagrace

It has been about 60 degrees the past two days; so conducive to wandering around the neighborhood with my camera! I wish I’d had it with me last night when I walked to my voice student’s house for his lesson. The moon was almost full, and I kept saying to myself, “Oh, wow! That would make a good shot!” It was such a balmy evening that I kept thinking about endless nights playing Kick the Can as a child. That summertime feeling is creeping up on me! Daylight savings time kicks in on Sunday. It’s still light at 6pm as we’re sitting down to dinner now. Steve and I are really getting the itch to go camping. We’ll probably take off next week if it stays this warm! Here are some photos from yesterday:

Enjoy your day!

Sunday Stroll

February 26, 2012 by scillagrace

My neighborhood is probably fairly typical for suburban USA, but I always find things that strike my imagination as anything but. There’s a story wherever you look. Here are a few I found yesterday.

The house on the hill was once owned by a retired sea captain who could be spotted occasionally behind the iron parapet with a spyglass, looking toward Lake Michigan. Sometimes I hear him when the wind roars in the trees, shouting “Thar she blows!”

Mrs. McGillicuddy was hanging out the wash one day, when a German Shepherd came barreling around the corner of the house and ran right under her skirts. This sock flew out of reach and remains in the maple tree on Church Street to this day. (What happens to the story if I don’t capitalize the ‘s’?)

“Momma? Can we make a snowman family in the front yard? Please?” “Nonsense, children. That’s not necessary. I have one I ordered from WalMart’s Home Decor department right here. There! Now run inside and watch the TV until dinner.”

The meteorite streamed through the dark night sky, blazing a menacing trail of fire toward the quiet, white house on the corner where Carol & Ken slept. It whistled past the living room window, sending Fluffy on arthritic legs across the rug and under the sofa on the opposite wall. With a steaming hiss, it plopped into the snow. Ken snored loudly and rolled over on his left side.

Enjoy your Sunday amusements! The sun is shining, and I think we’re off on a hike this afternoon.

And To Think That I Saw It On (My) Street

December 28, 2011 by scillagrace

With apologies to Dr. Seuss for stealing most of his title, I am reminded of taking my kids for a tour of my neighborhood on Christmas afternoon. I love just walking outside with a camera, or even without, and simply noticing all the absurdity of life. There’s some weird stuff out there! The most bizarre neighborhood sighting appeared the week before Christmas. I was walking to the market to buy groceries, when around the corner and very fast, a white car approached with something pinkish sticking up out of its roof. I thought maybe it was some helium balloons. It got closer and slowed down, and I realized that it was a large, inflated, vinyl doll with enormous balloon boobs rising from the sun roof of the compact car. I was too mesmerized by the plastic flesh to look at the driver’s face, but he was slowing down right near me. I wondered if this was a threat. Suddenly, I heard a man’s voice growl “AAAaaarrrrrrgh!” and the car pulled into the driveway that I was just crossing. I walked on, blinking, and supposed that he was voicing some kind of frustration at having been delayed entry onto his property. Of course, my thoughts then went spinning into all kinds of fiction scenarios that would create a plausible story to go along with the encounter. An embarrassing office gag gift? A desperately horny bachelor? Who knows. I shake my head and smile.

Then there’s the lady with the fur coat and the Cocker Spaniel. She saw me & Steve and my four guests approaching and once more issued her warning, “He’ll jump on you!!” We waved. We’d been warned before. Up the street from her is a pair of garden lions sizing up their concrete casing.

Does this make me look fat?

Further south, I found this friendly front door.

"No Soliciting"

And close to the park, this possum in the road.

Not just playing

Down by the railroad tracks, we found a pile of rusty spikes. Steve pocketed one as a souvenir for our “museum”.

Like looking for a needle...

He was going to pick up another souvenir, but he found it hard to lift.

Another neighbor had this parking meter in his driveway. Do you suppose there’s any money in it?

Usually the ducks on the pond swim away when I approach. This time, they made straight for us. I think they were hoping we’d brought bread crumbs. I felt bad that we’d eaten two ducks the night before and didn’t offer anything to the survivors.