Nothing lasts forever. This is all that’s left of a trusty old tree that provided me a shady respite on my walk to work for the past several years.
My size 8 1/2 (Women’s American) foot for scale.
I have no idea how many rings are there. Many – let’s leave it at that. I’m sure the tree was older than some of the surrounding houses. Goodbye old friend.
Yesterday, the day before Easter, I took a more urban walk than usual, going through downtown to a day-long event. So no flowers in this post. Usual caveats apply — this is only to share my observations and experiences. I know my photos are as amateur as it gets.
I really want to spend a day sitting inside that tower looking out a window.
I had a feeling I would see this sign.
Is the signal getting through?
A religious scooter.
I prefer spring blankets to winter ones.
We had a long, long, long, hard, hard, hard winter here. What walks I took were utilitarian and accomplished as quickly as possible, with no taking off of gloves to snap photos.
But spring has arrived at long last. I see color popping here and there, new blossoms, life re-emerging.
We hunkered down, endured through the gray and cold. Then one day, there were flowers.
On today’s walk, it was sunny but brrr c-c-c-old. On the one-mile lap around my immediate neighborhood, I engaged in not a single spoken conversation. Yet a fair amount of communication happened.
Sometimes words aren’t needed.
This is what pedestrians are cautioned away from. What lurks there?
I ignored the caution sign and went close to peek under the rock, because I’m a rebel without a clue. All I saw was a hole in the ground.
I strolled my neighborhood in unseasonably temperate weather, perfect for a walk — the last few warm hours before a predicted winter storm.
I heard leaf blowers, but never saw them. I saw people raking the brown, drying remnants of autumn, and running them over with mulching mowers. I saw a family taking photos of their toddlers playing in a leaf pile. At one house, a determined man used a front-loading Bobcat to push the masses of leaves from his lawn into one big stack near the edge.
Maybe I should have been have been doing yard work instead of playing tourist to all of the neighbors doing theirs. I still have undone weeding, left over from the summer. On the other hand, the mess of my yard might not be visible under the snow by this time tomorrow.
The bodies of the leaves are gone, but their spirits have not yet crossed over:
On Thanksgiving, a post-dinner excursion on the Katy Trail near Rocheport, Missouri.
I assume these two animals were not here at the exact same time:
- Dog’s paw print and deer hoof print.
Bluff on one side, river on the other. Being between a bluff and a river is a little better than between a rock and a hard place:
A little cave — a cavelet, if you will:
An old explosives depot, used by the railroad company when trains ran down this route:
Eerie shadows (my son):
Inside looking out:
Missouri River near sunset: