A ride through Bonelli Park on quiet trails made more so by towering clouds stacked up against mountain peaks. My wheels are not the only ones spinning silently over damp earth, no dry crunch today, only an occasional slurmp where deeper mud tries to slow speed, hold fast. Brethren of the road pass by, their group strung out between two driveways into the park, so I get twice the opportunity to impress with my curb-hopping exploits. I ace both and run on, glad for the witnesses this day.
Crows and ravens in the trees, in the trash cans take flight as I approach. Though I would have them stay, I am unconvinced on how best to express the wish to them. Ducks and geese in the water, are undisturbed by boats and wakes - the lake belongs to them today, uncontested. Red-shouldered blackbirds in the mustard, perch high on stalks and sing a familiar tune of Spring arrival. I would have them ingest more of the gnats that pepper my face as I unwittingly disturb clouds of their congregation.
More than ever, right now, the trails wend and weave their tapestry of contrast. Edges are distinct, they widen and narrow, they are sometimes even lost, disappear as they bend. Soon enough, green will be brown, edges will be blurred, horizon will merge with sky as if we could easily ride between one and the other. The transition will dissolve, but not today, there is no passage from earthbound to wild yonder.
i watched as the German spotter plane from a bygone era made two passes of Brackett Field, dogged the entire time by the French [?] pilot wary of the others' intentions
the lady ruggers of Claremont-McKenna - Scripps hosted their counterparts of UC Irvine. big plays, big hits to rival anything from the gridiron warriors with all their padding and helmets
a free quanco with women converging for control
it is all steel bones, scaffolding and safety fencing right not, but the new arena rising from dust on the Claremont-McKenna campus already looks like an impressive facility
contrasting patterns, contrasting forms