Shadowy walk to the beach from our condo on vacation on the Gulf Coast.
Shadows on a bench on an overlook at Gulf State Park in Alabama.
Shadowy Benches installed at the hub of several trails on my beloved Turkey Mountain. A team of volunteers carried by hand about a half mile,the benches, several bags of concrete, several five gallon buckets of water and the tools for job and then installed them after clearing the area. (Note, I did not do any of the heavy lifting, but you know somebody has to take the pictures.)
Sculptures of Sheep grazing contentedly on the lawn.
Leaves casting a shadow on a sidewalk
And now a reveal. This is the site of Philbrook’s only geocache from years ago. It has been disabled for years. It was a complicated multicache that would take a lot of time but lazy old me thought it out. Most museums are very protective of their gardens and don’t want nasty deet smelling geocachers tramping through their exhibits, dismantling light fixtures, and climbing trellises, fences, and art work so I thought of two places where the fusty but fun museum staff would deem safe enough for geocaching. And I was right! I found it 13 years ago, read all about it here. Oh, don’t bother looking for it if you visit Philbrook, it is long gone.
Hiking on Turkey Mountain I came across this complex set of shadows.
The Riverparks Authority has installed “flyovers” on the trails to separate the suicidal, speedy downhill daredevils on mountain bikes from we more sedate pedestrians.
And, it’s my fifteen year blogaversary yesterday. Woo Hoo!!
It’s Fathers Day. Congratulations to all the fathers out there, I hope your loved ones are spoiling you, my family is. This is my dad. He is gone now and I miss him. Here is in a shady spot in the woods with a beer in hand, relaxing with family and friends. He loved doing stuff like that.
And here is our Kodi the dog on a walk passing a guantlet of shadows. The little guy lives to walk.
And here is my favorite place, Turkey Mountain Urban Wilderness Area here in Tulsa. The bright sun sure makes for deep shadows.
Saturday I was part of a cleanup effort on Turkey Mountain sponsored by the Tulsa Urban Wilderness Coalition. These two people were helping me clear one of the trails. Extra nice because they both had just finished running a 5K trail race on the mountain and then they grabbed the loppers and cleared out about three miles of trail. A very impressive pair of young people. I have no patience with people who disparage the generation coming up. Not me, I am very impressed with their work ethic, caring, and sense of community. Not just these two but almost everybody I meet. And as common in Tulsa we chatted a little bit and we knew people in common. I swear, Tulsa is the biggest small town I have ever lived in.
I was with them but then on a stubborn limb I was lopping, the limb gave way suddenly and one of the lopper handles popped me right on the mouth and split my lip. I bled all over my spiffy yellow safety vest. My companions gave me some gauze so I hiked a mile or so back to the lot and eventually made my way to urgent care where they cleaned my face up and sent me home with no stitches but a huge headache. I’m sure they are saying something like, “I knew we should of taken the old guy’s loppers away from him.”
I was flying the drone the other evening. When I was bringing it back home our Pom Kodi showed up on the back patio in his capacity of manager of backyard security wanting to know what the intruder was.
