Since the last post, the biggest news here is that dw has officially retired. I won't comment on her new status since she has promised several times to write an entry. We shall all wait with bated breath.
Regarding the bicycle: On my regular route to the rock-climbing gym I've been passing this street person:
He had the largest collection on his shopping cart I've ever seen (If you look closely you can see a wheel). He was organized, with a green tarp to cover his cart and a blue tarp to sleep under. And the location was odd because the corner is essentially a residential neighborhood with little pedestrian traffic to pass on a dollar or two. After he had been there for two months, he was missing one morning and I figured the police had moved him on. On returning home I saw a small wreath of flowers at the base of the no-parking sign. I looked in the paper but didn't find any notice of his death -- brief or otherwise --- But I'm assuming he died. Another person little noticed nor long remembered, but someone noticed and cared enough to lay a small temporary memorial. Donne had it right: the death of a stranger, even if seen indirectly, is affecting.
On a better note, I've had two bicycle adventures with birds. First, I was going down a hill -- moving about 20mph -- when I caught up to a crow who was just drifting along. He (? -- I'm not good at sex identifying crows -- ) was flying low and I came up behind him getting close enough to actually grab his tail (I didn't) before he sped up and turned away. I followed him for about half a block.
And second, I was approaching a bridge when a peregrine falcon swooped over my head from behind, missing me by six inches, and nailing a pigeon which was perched on the bridge. -- An explosion of feathers and a couple of seconds later the falcon flew away with the pigeon in it's talons. I don't really know, but I think the falcon used me as a moving blind. It was great and it happened so fast I didn't have time to be startled and run into a bridge pier or even fall off the curb.
Finally, I have a plane to catch -- and that's hard, they're big and fast -- so I need to bring this to a close. DJA
Regarding the bicycle: On my regular route to the rock-climbing gym I've been passing this street person:
He had the largest collection on his shopping cart I've ever seen (If you look closely you can see a wheel). He was organized, with a green tarp to cover his cart and a blue tarp to sleep under. And the location was odd because the corner is essentially a residential neighborhood with little pedestrian traffic to pass on a dollar or two. After he had been there for two months, he was missing one morning and I figured the police had moved him on. On returning home I saw a small wreath of flowers at the base of the no-parking sign. I looked in the paper but didn't find any notice of his death -- brief or otherwise --- But I'm assuming he died. Another person little noticed nor long remembered, but someone noticed and cared enough to lay a small temporary memorial. Donne had it right: the death of a stranger, even if seen indirectly, is affecting. On a better note, I've had two bicycle adventures with birds. First, I was going down a hill -- moving about 20mph -- when I caught up to a crow who was just drifting along. He (? -- I'm not good at sex identifying crows -- ) was flying low and I came up behind him getting close enough to actually grab his tail (I didn't) before he sped up and turned away. I followed him for about half a block.
And second, I was approaching a bridge when a peregrine falcon swooped over my head from behind, missing me by six inches, and nailing a pigeon which was perched on the bridge. -- An explosion of feathers and a couple of seconds later the falcon flew away with the pigeon in it's talons. I don't really know, but I think the falcon used me as a moving blind. It was great and it happened so fast I didn't have time to be startled and run into a bridge pier or even fall off the curb.
Finally, I have a plane to catch -- and that's hard, they're big and fast -- so I need to bring this to a close. DJA
No comments:
Post a Comment