Billy Idol Makes My Head Feel Funny

It's a gorgeous day, even though the sun is shining and there are no clouds.  One can't always have a day of dreary perfection, so I've learned to look for the beauty in even the sunny places and spaces.  The park was calling my name, so that's where I spent most of the lunch hour.  I sat in the car with the radio tuned to the 1st Wave station on Sirius.  I kept it quiet so I could hear the birds squawk. 

It rained some this week, so there was actual water in the faux creek with the ugly little bridge that was built by a strictly utilitarian crew of city workers.  The bridge is very uniform.  I like uniformity in design, but it doesn't work for me if the design is all squarish and straight.  Art Deco is my favorite design style and it is all about uniformity.  But it also flows and curves and sweeps and spreads out in gracefully controlled falls.  Lines are good when curved.  Curves are almost always more interesting. 

I love it here after a rain.  You can pretend that the water in the ditch is actually a charmingly natural little brook and that the scraggly, barely mower-high, dandelions are West Texas' answer to the bluebonnet fields. 

The ravens like it too.  They dance around on the edge of the tiny stream.  They aren't actually ravens, just common grackles, but they are still pretty cool.  And they do an awesome Hitchcock tribute on houses and yards all over town. 

I get a kick out of all the solitary people who come to park their trucks along the edges of the park and eat their lunch in the shade of the elm trees that manage to over-hang the pavement a bit.  The draw - an organically occurring ditch - that runs through here allows to the trees to get enough water to gain some decent height. 

The cemetery has some good trees too, and you can find some of these same people and more eating lunch out there every day.  Whichever place they choose, they stay in their car, keep the radios quiet and don't feel the need to engage in cell phone conversations.  I love it.  It's like we're all attending an introvert's convention together. 

Collected introverts, dancing blackbirds and faux-creeks. 

It's what's for lunch.