Dead End at the Industrial Canal on Galvez & Japonica

I don’t know when it happened, but I just hate being inside. Sometimes it’s because I’m afraid I’m missing out on something that might be happening out there, but more often just because I like to be outside. I’ve been sitting at home being sick and tired since Saturday: not ok. Thank goodness I woke up feeling considerably better, and J. and I were meeting at 1:00pm down in the Bywater–bike ride! The storms of the last couple of days have passed, and cooler air has worked its way in. It feels like springtime again, and pedaling felt good. After talking and working for a few hours I got back on the bike to head home. I took a detour along Poland Avenue and onto France to slink along some smooth asphalt. The sun had finally come out, and I swear the air was clearer with the haze and pollen broken by rain. I took a right on Galvez just to see what was at the end of the street. I passed by the place that sells anchors, which I noticed today, I think because of that last book I read that helped me get my mind around how big and heavy ship anchors have to be. Then there were the railroad tracks lined by rusting chain link fence, an abandoned rusty shed, and the kind of flora that reminds me of what you see driving from Boise to Mountain Home, on your way to Jackpot. I snapped this picture of the levee along the industrial canal because I find it strangely beautiful. Maybe it’s the color of the sky against the cement or the stark view, or maybe I just like this picture because I liked being out on my bike again. On my ride home I saw lots of blue sky, burned-out houses, porch-sitters, dogs, other cyclists, a couple graveyards, a house that was just its facade, a train that rolled back and forth on Press Street, seemingly unsure of where to go,  folks in Jackson Square, payday gamblers at Harrah’s, Pinkberry’s very newest employee, and a parade of citizens and cops in Central City, out against crime. So many different things happening out there–oh, sinuses, please cooperate!

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.