observational observations, whimsical

observational observations, whimsical

silhouette of flying birds
Photo by Wendy Wei on Pexels.com

(sometimes stream of consciousness is just unfiltered observation, this is a translation of today)

a pair of geese fly over, I imagine married, one with a declarative honk, the other acknowledges grunt, and the sound I hear is “yes, dear”, and then they are gone (and yes they were socially distant).

staring at the tuning fork tree, because, well, it resembles a tuning fork, I am fixated on the view between the tines, what if that was all I ever knew, my universe, that little space was my entire world perceived, all the rest is apart from my view in that scenario, unknown to me, but yet, now, I can actually see beyond those tines, what I perceive to be all around, but what might I be actually missing inside the tines of my mind, I wonder, or be gracious for what I have seen, I ponder.

I project to talk with the breeze, not for answers, nor for a conversation, just to say thanks, for the wind is tireless at work, and sleeps only in the escape of space.

notes… went back to the office today, been nearly two months, my desk, well, it’s still mine, and no one stole my stash of hand sanitizer I had (bought way before the pandemic, a three pack at staples of like monster size and also clorox wipes), it was a strange thing, I felt apprehension at times, but those who have been doing this for weeks seemed more relaxed, I guess I will be the same in time, I must admit I am not comfortable at all there, even if we are running a skeleton crew (literally two) but our technicians are bringing back machines/parts from the city every day, that freaks me out, especially since this article today… those are all stores I know, and people I actually trained at some point, damn, it is still hot close here… but I made it I hope, tons of hand-washing, hand sanitizer, wipes, masks, all that, but every cough, every sneeze in the doors just flames that little flame somewhat… my good friend, a co-worker for 15 years, his wife has an auto immune disorder, a real rare one, and he seems ok with all this and she is good, so I guess I should be, but maybe my mind just does not work that way… but I am trying… and tonight was such a nice night it helped me drain out the doubt, a fallacy? perhaps, but damn it felt good…

A touch of whimsy…

A touch of whimsy…

person holding red and yellow fruit
Photo by John Lambeth on Pexels.com

“a peach in the park”

how thoughts ignite in flames, bullet trains and maelstroms, so where should I start, so where should I begin? oh yes, a peach in the park, how might I endeavor to discover the clever fellow who placed this fleshy fruity fellow on this spot, might I infer into the meaning, the intention of this pit full globe placed perfectly perpendicular on the corner of this wall of laid stone… Should I become the king’s protector, a sampler, for a taste of hemlock, and reap the rich rewards of a job well done, unless I am done in by dining on this course, of course… Or is this the lost remnant of unrequited love, a date never met, literally a fruit not tasted, a memento of a moment not materialized, left behind in hest with heft on heart on broken, on further review, I do not think I like this interpretation…  perhaps this is an offering to the goddess of the central, in tribute to this grand oasis laid in the land of no sleep, surrounded on all sides by city streets, taxi keeps and buildings that dare scrape the very rooftop of air itself, a thankful ode, a nod to the one who keeps this trove, a grove, in the middle of all the manic metropolitan bustle and hustle, to the power of that natural spirit that sings in trees, howls across the winds, showers clean with the rain, blankets pure with the snow, I think I like the romantic interpretation of this intention… Or perhaps this is just some cruel trick, waiting for some fool (such as this, me) to pick up said peach grenade to receive a face-full of blasted peach parts, quite humiliated as the secret camera is revealed and all the phones that know no yield, up on the net I go, famous for something I’d rather not, for at least a cycle, face covered in shame and peach cob, no, this makes my hand recoil, I look around quickly to foil this latest plot, but nothing seems amiss, but should I take the chance?

and with all this scheming, mind running, scenario scrubbing, a subtle stranger (as we have not been introduced), has quite gotten on the loose, for behind this perfect peachy day, a squirrel has stopped to eat some fruit… well, I hope the spirit of the park is not amused… but for sure I am off the hook…

Notes: I have to say, sometimes I have no idea where this stuff comes from, well, technically it is me (obvious) but these things just pop in my head, to me, this is whimsy at best, letting my mind stretch and wander into some unknown field and describe the grass there.. if that makes sense, and if you read this it probably makes sense, and for that I say…. thanks…

“photos” (in memorial for 9/11)

“photos” (in memorial for 9/11)

brown and white concrete building
Photo by Caio Queiroz on Pexels.com

every passing year, I look at the photos, the faces, listen to the somber sayings of the names, listening for the ones I know, not just names on a stone, although cold black granite serves the solemn sober nature reserved, for days like these, the stone stays as still and quiet as the solid photo poses, the lost ones, the never found, buried in that ground, time stopped there, in those footprints, in moments and long winding agonies down, forever and at once, rubble, a giant cloud of dust, time stood still to watch the towers fall as if unreal, but this was real, every day, I drive by, that skyline, my entire life the twin towers were there, but they were just buildings on a postcard, nothing more, not the photos of those lost, taken from the earth in two fell swoop, photos captured in time, of lives taken too soon, a reminder of the gentle foothold we hold on this precious earth, in an instant, a moment, that will undoubtedly fade into time and history, the names will be read, and over time the numbers will dwindle, as the greatest generation fades so too shall ground zero one day, a footnote, a lost monument but not for now, time marches on, a lifetime is just a summer song in the coming wake of winter, so sometimes we must pause in the sake of human misery, so we may remember the fallen, so we may be reminded of those here, to love one another, even if for an instance, that glimpse, those photos so silent, take action now, while your breath still allows it…

MusicFor My Fallen Angel….

thoughts from my porch (summer solstice edition)…

thoughts from my porch (summer solstice edition)…

photo of dark clouds
Photo by Andree Brennan on Pexels.com

(music to read by)

if ever there was a day, a day to ride the light from dusk ’til dawn, today would be that day, and so it was, and so I did, I would love to tell you it was some great plan of mine, some great scheme, but I would be lying, just the random circumstance of life forcing my hand, would I be droll if I still said
“this was a long day”
that would be both empirically accurate and anecdotally emphatic, because of the way it felt and this is, truly the longest day of the year by actual time measure, but other yardsticks poked their rule-y heads up this day, I had a store to open on the East Side, New York City that is, waking up at 5am to get a jump, showered, the dog walked, rye toast in tow, in the car by 5thirty, cruising, the sun not rising, at least visibly, only rain clouds writing the morning forecast on the canvas out before me, and then, then the faucet opens, full tilt, pouring, all of a sudden my dreams of beating the traffic become being the traffic, I get over the bridge and onto the FDR, I can not say what the “F” stood for this morning but it certainly was not Franklin…
so the freeway was doing it’s best impression of a parking lot, so to have a shot at being on time I hopped off on Park Avenue, making sure to avoid the guy with the sign in the middle of said FDR (a very common occurrence), cut across, 40 blocks down, all the while the rain beguiling me with change of pace, a constant game with my wipers engaged at the right speed, so I arrive, sort of on time, I must admit I scoped out a local coffee joint to try, so I loaded up on a latte, got over to the store grand opening, pouring, pouring  rain, a grand total of ten customers in two hours, does not make the time fly I tell you, so the time passes, mostly all goes well, that chore doused, store secure on their own now, noon, around the corner I walk into the parking garage, slap down $38 buckaroos for 5 hours of parking, a guy drives up next to me standing, and rolls down his window
“hey, I will only be an hour”
I don’t recall wearing my garage attendant uniform, I look down and check anyway, nope, not today, besides I am holding a mouse and keyboard, not exactly common garage guy fare, from my experience at least, so I cheerfully offer to take the car off his hands (a spankin’ new mercedes sedan no doubt), it would be a nice upgrade after all, he realizes his mistake, and is very apologetic, I wasn’t offended anyway, with that charade passed I make my way back to HQ in jersey knowing there is a pile of files waiting for me to wade through and down, unfortunately, I am quite right about that pile, except little fires keep popping up and I am brigaded to those tasks while the pile grins at me, gleeful, for it knows it has gained a temporary stay of execution, the governor’s call has come in, for today, at least, admittedly the time passes faster in this bowl of hectic, I hardly notice the rain has hopped on a cruise out to sea and given way to delightful golden rays, six o’clock rolls around, predictably, right at 6, I figure over 12 hours is quite enough off this already…

silhouette of birds flying over body of water
Photo by David Skyrius on Pexels.com

so here I sit, the day has turned about, this morning was like a dreary monday dragging and now I am leaped to an ending friday, a perfect 70 out, truly a tale of 2 sittings, the sun is slowly sinking, the wind is warmly chilling, two baby jack rabbits are grazing, even the usual rambunctious crowd of local birds are just listening, I look out, at this familiar scene, I loosen up my mind, my body, I let my limbs drop limp, I look out and pretend I am a leaf on one of my trees subject to whim, letting the breeze rock me back and forth, to and fro, swaying, filling my sail as the wind sees fit, setting my compass to none, just letting the ocean of air wash over me in waves, with each moment draining away my worldly cares, whisking away the baggage from earlier in this day, as the curtains close, on this, the longest day… the solstice, from dawn to dusk witness, the solstice.

notes (porch series) I write these posts in a certain way, I scribble them down in one of my notebooks, try to figure out my horrid handwriting (best done if I type it in the night I write frankly), these are pretty close to rough drafts, one drafts, one take, whatever you might like to label it, I edit it a bit as I post, but that is it… pretty raw, just the way I work these days, I wish I could just run a cable into my mind for you and give you a remote and let you drive… but this is the best I got at the moment, so enjoy, and thanks for the eyes, I appreciate one look, any look, 1 million looks would be nice, but would it make my post any better or any worse ? nah…  and I am cool with that, thanks.

Dogs are the great equalizer…

Dogs are the great equalizer…

buildings surrounded by trees
Photo by Reynaldo #brigworkz Brigantty on Pexels.com

(music to read by: old school, new school)

Today was the type of day you would want to be in New York City, the city is many things at many times but just sometimes, and rarely… near perfect (well as far as a city can get), I had to open a store @ 7am on West End Avenue, not my thing, the whole early morning thing, waking up at 5:30am is a hideous assignment for me, but I knew there was a Starbucks just a block from the store, so personal fuel was assured, worked my first shift (I won’t bore you with the details but if you live in the area it is really nice supermarket), anyhoo… left the store around 1pm this afternoon, just under 80 degrees and the city dwellers seemed to be flexing their new summer wings, winter, while not harsh was long, and rain has reigned as of late, so something had to give, and the city bursts forth on days like this,  before they become mundane or the norm that is, when I can I choose to drive on riverside drive (riverside park spans most of the west side of Manhattan), I highly recommend it if you are ever driving in the city, especially on a balmy semi-summer day like today, you can roll down the window and enjoy the sights and sounds, there are lots of people to gawk at, um… I mean ‘observe’, the trees lining the road, various foliage among managed gardens, Grant’s Tomb, the river and all manner of boats on said river, and those iconic open top tour buses… all are far better window dressing than some random tall nondescript buildings when you are stuck in traffic anyway, at least to this traveler.

white dog terrier jumping near grass field during daytime
Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

I happen to be a dog person, if you are not I order you to vacate this blog post haste, or at least lie to me and tell me you love dogs, if you renounce your anti-dog blasphemy you may read forward, this time at least, anyway… I started to look at the various dogs, all shapes and sizes, and I noticed they were attached to humans of all shapes, sizes, colors and orientations, I could not find a pattern, I thought I might (my mind tends to work in that direction), but there was (surprisingly) sheer randomness in the dog-park kingdom in terms of human/dog pairing, big burly dudes with little foo-foo dogs (like say a Pomeranian) and quaint little waifs with large mutts (a Rottweiler for example), there was every shape and variety imaginable all routing around in this tiny (by comparison) city park space, there was no dog assigned to various colored humans, or a dog that seemed more apt to any gender whatsoever (or one that seemed concerned of same), the general purity of the human-dog relationship kind of struck me there, and maybe also a quick punch to my own expectations… dogs see people, people see all the rest.

notes… all thoughts, questions, inquiries, oddball requests, and recipes to temper habaneros are appreciated… oh yeah, and likes/follows, that seems to be a thing, I heard…

tonight’s lesson on new york city (or parts thereof)…

tonight’s lesson on new york city (or parts thereof)…

new york city
Photo by Vinta Supply Co. | NYC on Pexels.com

Although my job can be thoroughly frustrating (often) I must admit (begrudgingly) that it does afford me the opportunity to discover/explore/experience all the locales of the local locale (whew, that’s a mouthful), I guess more simply I am thrust into neighborhoods not too far from where I grew up (well, grew up in the physical sense), and said neighborhoods can be interesting little beakers of human experiment.  Today I was stuck, ahem, ‘assigned’ to a store in (googling the section where Dykman street is… hold on…) the Inwood section.  The history is pretty interesting if you read the Wiki…  but there is definitely some gentrification going on here, right around the corner from the store (and storefronts which are clearly Dominican/Puerto Rican) is a little street that is a little booshie… (go to the street side view)… very different from Broadway proper (almost the bronx)… trust me, this will be the new Williamsburg imo (not necessarily a bad thing)… just a little exposition on a neighborhood that will explode, I mean, damn it is right on the Hudson river, easy access to the G-Dub… cmon now…

Anyway, just past the store is this intersection… don’t blame me, blame the city planners…(map) (you might have to click on “larger map”), it is funny that it is a dead end where they meet… let me know if you spot what I spotted… (wink)

and I will be back there tomorrow, so I hope to explore the neighborhood further, but man the pizza (Sicilian) sucked @ tony’s but my co-worker Alex (who is all Rican … Dominican and Puerto mix!) said “what did you expect in a Dominican neighborhood”… damn I am white and stupid… I should stick to the local licks.