Through Roosevelt, second leg (Blogpost the Fifth)

    Princess rules the colony at Roosevelt Park with a quick right paw slap. She was a little wet from sleeping in the landscaping and her "pants" were curled like lamb's wool. She does not appear to be the toughest cat in the colony but apparently she is the boss. She likes to box my shoes when I stop petting her.

Boss (Princess)

Somehow this assortment of cats makes a life here in these urban park margins.
    The Coyote Creek has risen significantly following recent rains. I took a few shots of the ducks and litter traps.
Neighbors years ago endeavored to establish a California native garden in the recesses of Roosevelt Park. A gazebo, some Coyote brush, Hummingbird sage and rushes straggle on. I hear tell the volunteer gardeners were run out by drug dealers and persons propping up temporary shelters in the same habitat.
    I glimpsed and listened to a wren taking shelter and chattering in the Coyote brush. The setting yet resonates with the dream that the neighborhood attempted to bring down to earth and I am saddened that I can't go back there with a book or to prune or weed out English ivy and periwinkle. It might have been a beautiful place to catch up with other people as bees and butterflies worked among us to maintain it. Maybe it could have been a crossroads for people of different walks of life--a kind of place without fences. The health of the rivers is the health of the city. We need to restore these places for everybody. So many city dwellers crave places within reach to hear wind, water, birdsong, and to sit or wander in safety with our own thoughts and feelings.

Tagged Lamppost near Gazebo

I often see something out there on my excursions that reconnects things for me or helps resolve a trouble knocking around in my head. The physical motion of walking and the symbols of the human journey present in nature weave the strands together. They hold me together and keep me going. The magic is real. When I watch a bird splashing itself or flying across the sky with a stick in its beak, the elemental truths come closer to heart. Sometimes it's a seed and its instinctive ways telling me things I need to hear. We lose something crucial to human being when we stay too near the straight edges and neatly squared off corners characteristic of our species. Sometimes you have to log off, get up, get out, and cruise with the dragonfly. Dragonfly of red and gold, wings like the veining of a leaf, revealed.

Attempt at Community Commons