First stop as I headed out: catching a rare butterfly with my camera. Something told me that this critter was up to no good, stopping on leaves, instead of sipping nectar like a proper butterfly. Especially since the leaves in question were on one of my cherry tomato plants which looks to deliver reasonably well this summer. That is, if I don't wake up one morning to find it half gone into the gullet of a voracious caterpillar.
Further along the way I came across a potted tree that was plugged in. Or so it seemed. Huh? Closer inspection revealed that the "coiled cord" was actually one of those coiled hoses. Sure looks electrified, though.
Have you ever seen someone actually swinging in one of these contraptions? Yes, it does look inviting, especially amid all that shady greenery. But I'm trying to imagine climbing in and out -- with great difficulty!
Just down the street, I found a structure from the distant past: an old-fashioned cellar. The type of cellar that Dorothy didn't reach in time, hence her trip to Oz. The type of cellar in which my California grandfather brewed and stored wonderful root beer. I wonder if these people make root beer in their cellar or is it merely a forgotten appendage to their house.
Further downhill, I was surprised by three bicycles parked at Donna's Hut, a saloon identified with a pick-up truck crowd, not bike types.
Bikes go with coffee houses. Everybody knows that. But I saw neither bikes nor customers at the creekside patio behind Prescott Coffee Roasters. A new addition, probably for the smoking crowd who have always gathered out front on the now-forbidden sidewalk. I'll join them one of these days, though I gave up the habit more than 20 years ago.
First stop as I headed out: catching a rare butterfly with my camera. Something told me that this critter was up to no good, stopping on leaves, instead of sipping nectar like a proper butterfly. Especially since the leaves in question were on one of my cherry tomato plants which looks to deliver reasonably well this summer. That is, if I don't wake up one morning to find it half gone into the gullet of a voracious caterpillar.
Further along the way I came across a potted tree that was plugged in. Or so it seemed. Huh? Closer inspection revealed that the "coiled cord" was actually one of those coiled hoses. Sure looks electrified, though.
Have you ever seen someone actually swinging in one of these contraptions? Yes, it does look inviting, especially amid all that shady greenery. But I'm trying to imagine climbing in and out -- with great difficulty!
Just down the street, I found a structure from the distant past: an old-fashioned cellar. The type of cellar that Dorothy didn't reach in time, hence her trip to Oz. The type of cellar in which my California grandfather brewed and stored wonderful root beer. I wonder if these people make root beer in their cellar or is it merely a forgotten appendage to their house.
Further downhill, I was surprised by three bicycles parked at Donna's Hut, a saloon identified with a pick-up truck crowd, not bike types.
Bikes go with coffee houses. Everybody knows that. But I saw neither bikes nor customers at the creekside patio behind Prescott Coffee Roasters. A new addition, probably for the smoking crowd who have always gathered out front on the now-forbidden sidewalk. I'll join them one of these days, though I gave up the habit more than 20 years ago.
Seeing the cellar reminds me of one of my many grumpy old man's whinges, viz how's come those who reside in the tornado belt do not have cellars, even mini ones, to leap into when the alerts are posted.
ReplyDeleteHermano
A nice walk, thanks for taking me around.
ReplyDeleteOh, that picture of the chair in the shade is just beautiful! I wish I was there instead of in an office chair in an office building.
ReplyDeleteFinally bought the Canon after a lot of research on it and others. Most convincing though was the clarity of your photos.
Dear Bro --you forget all those folks who live in trailers or in Insta-Houses (i.e., double-wides, etc.) I suspect that a lot of the stick-built houses prior to the 1950s-60s have storm cellars. On the other hand, I was always surprised to discover that in Phoenix, city of 115 degree summers, there were so few cool basements, especially in houses built prior to AC.
ReplyDeleteSteve, I always welcome a companion as I mosey along.
Ms. QD, the scene is lovely, but have you figured out how to get in/out of that fancy swing??? As for the camera, be warned -- those bells and whistles have bells and whistles. Plenty of learning to do! And a 2nd warning -- I have to hype almost all my pictures in Photoshop, mainly tweaking the contrast higher to make the photos pop on the web. I find that pix straight from the camera tend to be somewhat flat.
Been awhile since I dropped in. Your way of walking and observing Prescott is so refreshing - I found myself talking a walk with some out-of-towners this weekend downtown and noticed some little vignettes I had never seen before. I told my friend about the way you document the little tableaux (sp?) that make up our community and she was fascinated.
ReplyDeleteMeanwhile, I had an inquiry from some people who live in another part of the country and who are interested in moving here. They asked me to hook them up with some people who might help them decide if this should be their next home.
The way we decided to do it is for me to post their original inquiry on Loosely Speaking, and then to see if other Prescottonians chime in there.
I think your input would be particularly appreciated by them. Stop by if you wish. Cheers.
Katie -- will do!
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