When I first started walking in town, I immediately noticed that I see so much more than when I drive down these streets – albeit at the legal s l o w posted speed. Some places have become mini-milestones in my walk and I decided I would snap some pictures before we got into fall. As it turns out, it was the last sunny morning since then. (Oh, yeah, there’s the blasted Obama poster inside someone’s enclosed porch that is no longer on my route – that would be a blood pressure spike and not a milestone, touchstone or whatever.)
But, getting on back on track, there are a lot of attractive spots that I notice – these are just a few that somehow trigger thoughts in my mind and not just pleasure in my eyes.
This one . . . this one right here – there are a few errant grass blades among the petunias that reside on a steep slope fairly early in my route. I like that; it’s been darn hot this summer and I can’t see the sense of some lady balancing precariously to pluck them out. The purple flowers greet me each morning with good cheer and sensibility and I appreciate them.
Then there are these marigolds. They have stood all summer in straight lines like soldiers guarding the sidewalk. I sometimes imagine a little General Patton Marigold standing at the end of the walk, telling them, “I’m proud of you men; you have stood your ground, not given an inch, despite the drought, despite the incredible heat. I would be proud to lead you little marigolds into battle anyplace, anytime.”
And here’s the porch that says “Welcome, Midwesterner, stop and chat and have a sip of lemonade:
Then there is the place where a side yards opens up to a vista of good cheer:
Here’s one of my favorites – the little “don’t forget me “puppy-faced” sunflower who greets me each day and sometimes I think I can see a little sunflower tail wag.
Now we come to the curving row of begonias; for most of the summer, they were a spot of color in a brown lawn like mine. I would think of an Army fort form the Old West – a nod to color and life in a dry, harsh land.
This is the side of a house on the corner by the fairgrounds; there are a lot of graceful and pleasant flowers in the yard, all blending together to create a park-like atmosphere. But I’ve always enjoyed turning the corner and seeing this against the foundation.
Despite my attraction to sunflowers, I have found one spot that makes me just a little uneasy. It is located in a corner lot, where the backyard flowers lean over toward the sidewalk on the side. Often, because the open expanse of the fairgrounds is opposite the site, they will sway in a slight breeze and THEY PUT ME IN MIND OF THE DAY OF THE TRIFFIDS. I sometimes wonder if the big yellow head is going to bend over to mine. But what is more disturbing are the red flowers that tower on stems that suggest they could take two Triffid-sized steps and grab me. Maybe they would only want a hug . . .