July 23rd, 2012
|08:23 am - Morning Walk|
It's a steamy subtropical morning in my Small Town. After I took my ailing Blonde Dog for her sunrise saunter halfway around the park, greeting friends as we went, I decided to do a mile-and-a-half walk-run before starting my day. (The morning decongestant has done its good work, and I can almost breathe.)
I decided not to do my usual route, however. One of the few blessings about venturing out in the steam is that this is one of the two times of year when front gardens showcase the hard work of people who actually Do Things with their front gardens (ie. not me). This route would take me over into the pocket of 60s and 70s Mid-Century Modern houses, around the older lovely homes in what's nominally a bad part of town, and then back through my park and my street.
What I discovered a block away from my house was that last night's fifteen minutes of wind thunder lightning rain had done damage. The first sign was a small branch littering the street. The incontrovertible sign was half of a hundred-year-oak sheered off one neighbor's tree and now all but burying another neighbor's prized boat. The yellow tape marking off the danger zone didn't move; it hung limply, sadly, burdened by the steam.
I kept going -- across the State Road (which here in town is just a road) and into the hollows and Florida-size hills of the Cool Neighborhood. It is very green here, and I noticed that this year's gardens are especially nice, with more native plantings than in years past, and with vinca bravely, hardily spilling everywhere. Here too were branches in the road, but no disasters -- just the usual bruises from subtropical storms.
I ran much of the rest of the way, back toward home. I stayed on the outside of the park, but waved at the Blonde Dog's favorite champion as we passed each other, she on the inside. Once on my road, I saw the Coast Guard Guy's truck heading toward me, and he stopped. "How's the Blonde Dog?" he said, looking at the empty spot beside me.
"She's at home. Still eating and walking, just not in the heat," I said. He grinned, said something cheerful, and punched the gas to go on.
Two houses away from mine, my Jamaican neighbor was slowly approaching his house. I crossed the road so he could pull into his driveway, and he smiled into the sun, waving at me as the Norteno music poured out of his newly washed Buick.
Sometimes it's nice to take a new route. Sometimes it's nicer to be at home.
|Date:||July 23rd, 2012 12:42 pm (UTC)|| |
Hugs and a good Monday, L.
So glad to hear your story of the morning. Sometimes, a change is a much needed thing. Hugs to you, and to the Miss. And extra scritches for her! (And more hugs for you.)
Cheers and hugs, F, and great memories of your week just past!
Sounds like a lovely walk, and it also sounds like you have some really nice neighbor folks too.
It's true that dog-walking means I meet a lot more of my cool neighbors than otherwise!
Cheers, T, and a good Monday.
So sad about the old tree, but glad to hear that part of it at least survives. Those old oaks evolved to deal with those storms, so I suspect it will find a new shape (maybe not in our lifetimes, though!) And glad the Blonde Dog is still up and about and enjoying her walks.
The damaged tree is one of our water oaks, already near the end of its life. The canopy in my town is really changing, because so many of its trees have hit endpoint.
Cheers and hugs to you today!
Our trees, too, are going--I suspect climate change is too much for them, or maybe water oaks don't have the long lives of live oaks (but even live oaks are finding things tougher).
Our city is doing a lot of replanting, which I love. Hope yours does, too.
Water oaks only have a life-expectancy of 100 years or so, alas. My Small Town actually does encourage replanting, but they're advocating for live oaks (which do last a long, long, long time).
|Date:||July 23rd, 2012 06:16 pm (UTC)|| |
[hugs] and good on you with the walkies!
I'm trying to get one walk in per day, usually just to the market and back again. Better than nothing, anyway...
Cheers for your walks! Cheers for getting out in the world!
sounds like a lovely morning.
We too had a brief spell of **WEATHER** with high winds, a massive fireworks display of dry lightning in the wee hours and this morning a brief near-tropical cloudburst lasting about 5 minutes. We don't get those around here, especially not in July, but it laid the hot dust beautifully.
hugs and watch your mail box!
And I hope you have no more WEATHER of that kind...
Have a good week, Lori.
A good week and better health to you, Gwynne. [hugs]
[hugs hugs] A good start of the week to you, S.
Hugs for good walks, good neighbors, home, and the Blonde Dog!
Thank you, K! Hugs for you and yours, and for your week. :-)
Hugs and a good week to you, L!