Shouldn't…but Do

Crisp day, a turn toward autumnal.

Quiet day in the neighborhood gave way to rushing, oncoming traffic. Trucks rumble by close enough to feel their wake.  To the car repair shop via sidewalk, a piece down a busy road.   Attention pivots away from vehicular onslaught.

Mountain Ash…a scrubby tree with top full of orange berries reaching for light, resides  on the north side of a house that has seen better days.   Cedar Waxwings covet those berries when days cool further, beautiful birds.

A stand of common milkweed beyond cracked pavement catches my eye.  Monarch caterpillars that grow to magnificent butterflies feed upon these plants, absorbing the toxicity of the plant into their skin  – making them unpalatable to predators.  You are what you eat.  No leaf damage here, not a caterpillar in sight.

“Excuse me,” an upcoming runner dodged around me and took a near, and pleasant looking side street.

Two tractor trailers, engine brakes engaged, roll past too fast – what am I doing here?

Looking up for escape – an eyeful of Simpson’s clouds.  Cumulus clouds bearing precise resemblance to the opening scene  of the popular, but irreverent, animated television show of the same name.  Meteorology, please forgive me.

Only a few weeks ago my boys and I were above those clouds looking down – cannot help but smile for the memory of family and friends seen again along the way.

Struggling young ornamental pear, half a dozen trees, planted a couple of years ago when this thoroughfare was widened, working at survival in the foreground of an empty lot.

A large old maple here, guards a pumpkin patch set back off the road.  Powdery mildew is making fast work of those vines, exposing pumpkins ripened early by unusual summer heat.

Black metal bench and trash can front another vacant lot.  Hidden here is the geocache my children and I found last December.  Still here.

Almost there, sumac bobs in full sun, tight ruddy fruit clusters like those in my parents backyard years ago.  Those seed pods always were a little too tense for me.

Rounding the corner, I spy Buckbeak, finished, parked and waiting, my time travel ended for now.  When avoiding the unpleasant, a lot to be seen – and said – for things noticed along the way.