I tend to be weary on Saturday afternoons. I stay up late watching crime documentaries on You Tube, and I'm usually up early for a bike ride or errands or work or other things that weekends require. But today, I happened to view the famous Bob Newhart "Stop It" video --
-- and it energized me to deny my nap and get on the Schwinn Moab 3 armed with my Canon S80.
With some dramatic results.
(1) Darwin's Darlings 1: a juvenile bullsnake who failed to heed snakemama's warnings about suspicious concrete expanses.
(2) Darwin's Darlings 2: A baby tarantula, or maybe a baby wolf spider, whose many legs did not carry him through the Perils of Preston.
(3) Who doesn't love a classic mud puddle? I imagine that life on earth formed in a pool very much like this one, except that this one is full of dirty water instead of a stew of complex proteins and hydrocarbons just itching to hook up and reproduce themselves, sits beneath a nitrogen-argon-oxygen atmosphere instead of one dominated by carbon dioxide, methane, carbon monoxide, and ammonia, and also seems to have tire tracks heading into it, suggesting the presence of wheeled vehicles and knuckleheaded adolescents for which there is no evidence from four billion years ago.
Ho hum, dead little animals and a mud puddle. Same stuff that always catches my eye. Then I heard the thrum-bum-bumma-thrum of a bass-heavy music system up ahead around a bend or two on the gravel backroad. Mm, I'm thinking, I hope no one brought any gifties of methamphetamine to that party. So I'll pedal slowly up to the bend and --
(4) HOLY POOP, IT'S A GORGEOUS YOUNG BLONDE STANDING IN THE MIDDLE OF THIS GRAVEL ROAD IN A MICROSCOPIC PINK THONG BIKINI NEXT TO A BLACK HYUNDAI SONATA WITH THE DOORS OPEN AND THE MUSIC BLASTING AND A YOUNG MAN ON HIS BACK ON THE ROAD BEFORE HER WITH A 35 MM CAMERA TAKING HER PICTURE NO DOUBT HOPING THAT THE THRUMM-BUM MUSIC WILL INSPIRE THE YOUNG WOMAN TO OFFER MANY COMELY POSES.
I stopped; they noticed me. the young woman, long-leggedy and impossibly callipygous (look it up), who was mostly turned away from me, modestly put her forearm over her backside, which sort of seemed to defeat the purpose of a thong bikini. I waited, thinking he was taking some sequence of shots he wanted to complete, but he stood up and they both smiled. I pedaled past, they said something about being sorry for blocking the road, I said pleasure's mine, and we all had a good laugh. When I'd traveled a decent distance, I turned and took a snap to prove my account -- the photographer is not visible, but you can see the young woman preparing to toss her hair back for the next pose.
This tends to direct the mind away from the vagaries of evolution and the origins of life on earth.
(5) There's nothing in this picture, but I'm telling you, I heard something back there.
(6) Every guy loves a train. Hey, it's almost here! I swear, when I was preparing to snap this, the engineer flashed his brights at me. A man never outgrows his childhood fascination with choo-choos.
(7) After nearly a decade of start-and-stop construction, the massive home constructed at the corner of Fisher and Rogers appears to be completed, save for some landscaping details. Its owners may be the nicest folks in the world, and I have heard that they have worked with Rogers Elementary across the street. But it's cartoonishly out of place in its neighborhood and has been an eyesore for years. My eye is always drawn to the home's many lightning rods, none of which seem to point quite straight up, and, if anything, would seem to invite a strong electrical rebuke from the heavens.
I'm glad it's done and I'm not offended by its architectural inconsistency with its surroundings. Gives the neighborhood a spot of interest. But what caught my eye today was its Halloween decorations. In front of this opulent, massive structure, bespeaking unimaginable affluence to your casual cyclist, sat two lonely, uncarved pumpkins.
Imagine going up to ring that doorbell.