The other night I came home and found a purple pail sitting by the sidewalk steps. It’s not something that’s usually there but when I peered inside I saw it was full of big pieces of colored chalk. I didn’t think much of it until later in the evening when I saw two of the neighborhood girls drawing hopscotch squares on the sidewalk. Again, I didn’t think much of it….until the next morning. As I headed out the door for an early morning walk I was thrilled to find that the entire sidewalk on our block had been covered with artwork. These industrious young girls had taken their chalk and drawn a meandering path the length of the block and had numbered each square. In some sections the blocks have different shapes and are sometimes side by side. But each and every block is numbered, starting at #1 and ending at #600. I was delighted to see such creative artwork right at our front steps! Although many of us adults wouldn’t think to do what these girls did, they certainly enjoyed this project. It made me think back to the summers of my childhood when I spent countless hours on my bicycle, afternoons spent at the swimming pool in our neighborhood, or the days spent tying together the white flowers from the clover to make a clover chain that stretched from my house to my girlfriend’s house. I flourished and grew up in those summers, and only now appreciate them for all the experiences I’ve carried with me into my adulthood. So to these neighborhood girls I say “thanks – you’ve shared a child’s joy of summer and art with our entire neighborhood.”
summer
Raindrop ripples
Whenever I’m out on a lake I’m always looking around at the sky, the clouds, the shoreline and the reflections — anything for a delightful image and photograph. Last week I wrote about musical patterns that I saw in the surface of a lake with the reflection of cattails and lily pads. This week I found raindrops dancing on a lake surface. It was early evening when we put our canoe into the water, with a sun sinking into the west and a bank of clouds passing by. The sun was still out and when I looked around I could see small circles on the surface of the lake, and not of the fish-kind. Although we couldn’t feel it ourselves it was starting to rain. The single drops spaced themselves on the surface of lake, making beautifully concentric circles and ripples spreading outward. With the sunlight and the blue sky reflected in the surface, I was presented with a wonderful photographic opportunity. As quickly as the rain had started, it then stopped. After awhile the sun slid below the horizon, painting the sky a shade of pink and orange; the full moon rose over the trees, the stars filled the sky above, and we were treated to another beautiful summer’s evening on a Minnesota lake.
Musical patterns on the lake
With a weekend full of activities that already included an art exhibit reception, a 40-mile bike ride, and a baseball game, we decided to head out early this morning for some peace and quiet on a local lake. We had hoped to be on the lake as the sun was rising, but Mother Nature had other plans and the dawn began overcast and cloudy. As we launched our canoe we had the entire lake to ourselves, surrounded by the special stillness and quiet that is reserved for the earliest times of the morning. The lake was calm and we paddled near a shoreline that was lined with cattails and had lily pads floating nearby. As I looked at the lake surface and the reflection I felt like I was looking at a sheet of music with staff lines and notes placed in a pattern that was meant to be played and interpreted. Perhaps it was a prelude to the day that was just beginning — a time of wonder and calm when all the world seems still and all you have to do for the next hour or so is relax in your canoe, paddle on the lake, and enjoy the hours as they quietly develop.
Balancing act
I’m pleased to announce that I have a collection of photographs that will be exhibited at the Hudson Hospital in Hudson, Wisconsin beginning this Wednesday, August 3rd. The hospital has a wonderful healing arts program which includes over 200 works of art throughout the entire campus, including patient rooms. My images for this exhibit are titled “Close to Home.” I have been interested in the belief held by so many people that we must travel to faraway places to find the beautiful things in our world. Yet in the small area of my city lot with its small brick house and gardens is a world of great beauty and wonder, like this monarch butterfly that balanced on a purple coneflower one hot day in July. The exhibit runs from August 3rd through December 11th. There is an artist reception this Friday, August 5th from 6:00 to 8:00pm. I invite any one near the Twin Cities area to come to the reception or to stop by the Hudson Hospital to see their fine exhibit. For more information about the hospital or for directions, please go to www.hudsonhospital.org.
Racing with the rain
Now that my wrist has healed I’m enjoying getting back on my bicycle. And with great summer riding weather I’m slowing working to build up my mileage. Yesterday dawned gray and cloudy with the promise of sunshine by late morning. A quick check of the doppler radar showed rain to the north, but not a problem. Off we headed, cycling on a route we’ve ridden many times before. As we neared our turn-around point we were confronted with ominous black clouds. We conferred and decided it best to turn around and head back….as quickly as possible. As luck would have it, the dark clouds were soon enveloping us, the wind was gusting from the right, and then from the left, and the rain was starting to come down. We knew of a couple of places we could go for protection and we pulled under the eaves of a maintenance and storage shed just as the rain cut loose. Nearby was a marsh filled with cattails. As they waved back and forth in the wind and rain we stayed huddled under the eaves watching the lightning, listening to the thunder, and watching the storm pass through. Once it seemed that the rain was beginning to let up we decided to get back on our bikes and ride the remainder of the way home. Within a half-mile of the house we found that the pavement was dry and the rain hadn’t made it that far south. Regardless of the weather (or perhaps because of the weather) we set new personal best speeds for our route and were only slightly soaked when we pulled into home.
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