Tsunami 2009

Saturday was this year's Tsunami on the Square. If I were asked to describe what a Tsunami on the Square is, the best I could come up with would be a Fringe Festival, but in one day on one stage. A parade starts the affair, followed by non-stop acts all afternoon and well into the night. All part circus, part serious. However, no lions or elephants.

The crowds are gathered; the Courthouse steps are choice seating.

The blue lady chanted of "Water!"

Which brought these lights up.

One of the acts...

... and another. while behind the stage (below), another pair of performers practice.

I presume we have an octopus lady at right, all wired for colored lights. As for the instruments below, the red tuba is outstanding. Sorry I wasn't there to hear the concerto for red tuba, concertina, glockenspiel and gong.

Meanwhile, in the kiddie corner, the moppets are learning to use musical-ish noise makers.

Tsunami also includes a circus school for the young ones. Likely this stilted drummer is one of the recent grads.

The Seussmobile circled the Square on a regular route.

So is it any wonder that when I returned home, it was to collapse for a well deserved nap?

Linkage: The obvious place to start is with Rich's first post on Tsunami, which includes a stream of 22 pictures from the parade. Next, a Flickr link to pictures of the Yavapai County indigent graveyard; I didn't know there was such a place! The True West blog has a comment on the financial problems of the Sharlot Hall Museum. And, if yesterday's post interested you in Prescott's cool loos, here (and here) are a couple more. Addenda: boonie takes his digicamera apart & doesn't mention whether or not he reassembled Humpty Dumpty.

Gelato: the pause that refreshes

A typical summer Saturday in Prescott: a major event on the Square, two car shows plus roping at the rodeo grounds. I managed three out of four, which left me ready for a proper goody. As the weather has warmed a bit, my mouth was shouting "gelato"! And so I stopped at Sweet Caesar's for a double dip of intense flavor. Love the stuff!

But who wants to handle a camera with sticky, gelatoed fingers? Time to wash up in one of downtown's cool loos. Examine that device above. It's a water faucet, you know. All you have to do is figure it out and a lovely stream of water pours down the chrome sluice.

To make the tiny loo seem larger, a trompe l'oeil of Lake Como on one wall.

As I left Sweet Caesar to return to the Square for the Tsumani, I passed this set of gates that really, truly wanted to be in last night's post. This is the scene of one of the downtown condos that didn't get started in time for the developers to really lose their shirts. Lucky guys, I'd say, though the site is certainly forlorn, especially in the center of town.

Today's Links: For starters, how about a review of the latest Star Trek movie by Toni, a local blogger. Of course, summer is the time of the year for camp; just happens that Prescott Pines now has its own blog. Prescott Style bemoans the loss of the big old weeping willow in the little park at the junction of Sheldon and Gurley, cut down by ADOT.

Three gates

Gates make a statement on the land declaring what is Here (where you are) and what is There, which is beyond the entrance. There is a change of status once you pass through. For example, upon entering the gate above, you are on the trail up Thumb Butte with a climb ahead, compared to the relatively level picnic area you are leaving.

This gate, down in the high desert east of the Bradshaws, is a declaration of privacy. Though there is no keep out sign. I'd worry about a rifle over the door in the mobile. It's hard to tell if the premises are still occupied or are abandoned; that windmill lying on its side doesn't look very promising. Weeds growing in front of the gate hint that time has passed since it was last opened. Perhaps this gate hides a small mystery.

A grassy area on the far side of the gate above suggests that keeping the livestock in is the concern of this owner. As a sometimes adventurer, however, I see the gate as a potential passage to the mountains beyond. Once again, there is no keep out sign, though common western courtesy says to close the gate if you pass through. You'd be surprised how many city louts leave gates wide open. Or maybe you wouldn't.

Ravens on the rooftop

Well, as long as I am being alliterative, why not raucous ravens on the rooftop? Or perhaps what we're dealing with here is a raucous of ravens, somewhat like a covey of quail. All in the style of those idle British gentlemen who many years ago entertained themselves by inventing fanciful terms for family or tribal groups of critters (i.e., an obstinacy of buffaloes, an ambush of tigers or a charm of goldfinches).

However, what I'm writing about is a frequent gathering of ravens on a particular rooftop up the hill from my house. In fact, it often happens more than one time per day. For some days, I've noticed the birds flying uphill over my house to a mysterious landing; for some time, I've heard ravens shouting. A few days ago, I finally walked that street and observed the critters in action with my camera.

At first I only noticed two birds; then it turned out there were three. Then four. Two flew away (the older of the ravens, I would bet), leaving two behind shouting extra loudly.

When all the birds had returned, there were five.

I suspect that the owners of this house are part-timers in Prescott. Otherwise, they'd be throwing shoes, rocks, anything to quiet matters down at their home. As you may have noticed, the roof of this house has two peaks -- which the ravens appear to appreciate.

Furthermore, other landing spots directly across the street include three tall Ponderosas and a power pole. I'll be keeping an eye on this raven collective to see if there are any new developments.

Weird weather worries...

It was raining when I woke up in the middle of the night. And today, we had a nice rain in the middle of the afternoon. Wunderground predicts a chance of thunderstorms again on Friday and Saturday. Not until next Tuesday do the weather seers mention clear -- and still they hedge their bets: mostly.

No doubt you are saying to yourself, "so what's got GrannyJ all uptight about everyday weather?" Unless you are an Arizonan. In which case, you are well aware that through the last half of May and most of June, the skies in our state are supposed to look like the picture above. Blue. Cloudless. Even a mile high in the central mountains, we can expect to fry in June. The normal schedule calls for the summer rains to arrive early to mid-July.

But in the year of our Lord 2009, our late spring skies have looked more like this,,,

...this...

...and even this. What is more, at our elevation, the temperature is pretty directly correlated to the cloud cover. Meaning that our late spring has been unusually cool. We haven't fried as we are meant to.

I shouldn't complain, really. But in one's old age, one secretly likes things to be orderly. I wouldn't be so concerned if the sunspots hadn't nearly disappeared. Furthermore, the earth' magnetic field is diminishing, and the solar wind is slowing down or thinning out or something untoward. Such matters tend to make me nervous. Tell me I needn't worry.

Time for Links: Another local blog for the likes of me -- the Retiree Connection, primarily featuring volunter opportunities. Ron at Walking Ft. Bragg took a four day hike along an excursion railroad line up in NoCal; way to go, Ron! Tombo was up near Seligman, where he caught a picture of an unexpected grazing animal. And s.weasel who recently moved to England has a public icon puzzle she invites you to interpret.

Antlers everywhere

Indoors. Outdoors. Antlers are a favorite decor motif hereabouts. And not necessarily because one is a bigtime game hunter, either. Even I have half a pair. I just found it there, lying on the ground in the woods near an apartment house where the Sson was living up in Flagstaff.

This quite asymmetric pair was on sale at the recent Antiques on the Square show.

Another pair from the Three Sisters consignment shop out in the Dells.

A six-pointer over at Batterman's recently.

Finally, antlers that have been worked into a decorative window treatment. No way would you find members of a pair growing at right angles like that!

Cigar store Indian -- finished!

Came a knocking at my door late one recent afternoon. To my great surprise, there stood Scott McCormick, the neighborhood wood carver. He had stopped by to show me the current state of the cigar store Indian he was working on.

Shortly thereafter, the Indian was painted and on display at the Ian Russell Gallery. I didn't make it to the gallery in time to catch a final picture. All too soon he was delivered to the individual who had commissioned him in the first place. Fortunately, Rich featured a post about the gallery and I borrowed one of his pictures (above). Thanks, Rich!

But there's more to the story. I got my courage up and asked Scott if he ever had big logs that he didn't want. If so, might I have one or two as plant stands? Lo and behold, he showed up one afternoon with the prospective birdhouse (above)...

...this great big, naked stump...
...and that lovely big log now holding my largest strawberry pot high above the reach of the local javelinas who would otherwise chew up my strawberry plants. Thanks, Scott.