I walked down the block for the sunrise the other day. I’d sort of forgotten about this little park, and the charming little chalk drawings I used to see there sometimes. The last time I was there was the day after a hard rain, and the whole surface was fresh and clean, looked brand new. But this time I saw images that made me smile.
The cute faces in chalk were hard to miss. But when I saw this photo I saw another smiley face lit up in the clouds. Or is it just me?
I’ve thought about buying myself some sidewalk chalk and leaving a message, but I’ve come to my senses. I may feel like I’m in my second childhood these days, but I’m old. I think I’d best leave these kids to their fun and just check in on them from time to time.
I was under the influence at the races on Saturday. We had a nice group, and the feature photo is the person who was influencing me. She likes to concentrate on the people at the race track, in addition to the races themselves. So when I was up on the balcony and saw her below me, shooting into the crowd between races, I was challenged to try to see what she was seeing. And she was an interesting subject herself.
The other day it dawned on me that it’s been quite a while since I checked up on Riplee. You remember him, the baby orangutan who was born last November 15th, so he is nearly a year old. I think that each time I’ve been back to ZooTampa I’ve hoped to see him displaying his own baby-orangutan self, but up until yesterday each visit had him still in his mother’s arms. The infancy lasts longer than I might have thought. But this visit, I hoped, would be different. And it was.
After taking many, many pictures we decided to walk through the rest of the zoo to see what we could see, but when we returned we found that Dee Dee and her mother were sitting side by side up on a large post with their backs to us. Riplee was between them, holding onto two ropes and appearing to be wishing to climb them. Now this was the sort of photo I’d been hoping for the last few times I’d been to the zoo.
This little guy will be so much fun to continue to visit. If orangutans hadn’t already been a favorite of mine they certainly would be now.
I was chauffeur driven for a week in the Great Smokey Mountains National Park, which means I was taking pictures from the car, a lot of pictures. Now when I look at my pictures I have some that never did fit into any post I made already, but I liked them, so here goes. The feature photo is one of the four tunnels we drove through every day we were in NC. Two tunnels were longer, but that doesn’t make for as interesting of a picture.
I’m so glad that we made this trip. My computer is full of images of lovely fall scenery. I was initially disappointed that all the hills weren’t ablaze with color, but once I found myself traveling through tunnels of foliage overhead I was quite happy with the fall foliage we did see. It was a nice trip, but it’s also nice to be home…
There was a new message waiting for me at the park this morning. I heartily agree with the message, and even the spelling was creative. I could have called this post ‘the blue hour’, or even simply, Happy Halloween, but my little creative friend won my heart today.
I’ve already admitted that I have never been a fan of hockey. It just never seemed to be on the TV growing up, or since. But now that I have a friend who’s favorite sport is hockey it seems I may be making up for a lifetime of not watching it. Which might not have been a particularly welcome change if not for the fact that I am happiest with a camera in my hands. If there is one thing that going to a hockey game will give you it’s photo ops galore. The action never stops. You don’t have to wait for a bird to turn its head, or hold your breath while you try to will the sunrise or sunset colors to develop. Nope, there is something going on all the time, and so you may leave the game with 608 pictures in your camera. Or over 1000 as one of the group said she took. And, thanks to the group, we discovered that the upstairs view isn’t covered with netting except on the ends in range of the goals. So the center is open, no scuff marks on the glass or netting to shoot through. And there’s a bar, and a place to sit with a beer to watch the game and shoot pictures. Warmer too! I think I’m becoming a fan.
I do wonder how I would have felt if my son had wanted to play hockey when he was little. All the contact and shoving each other that goes on, and of course the fights, would have bothered me. But then they do all shake hands after the game, I guess I would have had to concentrate on that.