Ever since I ran into the fence around the new housing development, I’ve been wondering just how far it extends. If one must cope with a changed reality, I figure it helps to know just what the reality is with which one will be coping.
My back has been acting up lately (getting old is not for sissies), so I strapped on my back brace with an ice pack over the relevant spot, grabbed my walking stick for added stability, the camera, and the dogs, and set out to walk the fence. I now have a good idea of the extent of the development.
The bad news is that at least a dozen of my favorite walks are either gone entirely or no longer accessible. In some places it’s clear that the placement of the fence was intended precisely to reduce access to the rest of the open land for the rest of us.
However, it could be worse. It’s clear the the deer and the bicyclers have been busy re-routing trails around the fenced-off area, and some of the best land has been spared. Here’s a favorite settin’ spot that is still available:
It’s now harder for everyone to get into the area behind the development, and that’s clearly intentional (based on what they’ve fenced off). But even that isn’t entirely bad news for me, since it means that when I do make my way back there, the dogs and I are more likely to have it to ourselves, which we like.
Here’s another picture I took this morning. The lovely green bush in the middle, in front of the tree, is poison oak. Poison oak is beautiful stuff in the spring (and in the fall), but this is the best way to enjoy it–in a picture. Part of what makes it so pretty in the spring is the oil on the leaves, and it’s the oil that’s toxic to us humans.
More signs of spring: One of my students teaches at a private school, and I went to observe her yesterday. I left early to be sure to be on time–and got there with 30 minutes to spare, so I took a few pictures. Here are a couple.
(As a postscript: the walk seems to have been good for my back. Or at least, not bad for it. I’m more flexible now than when I left.)
Getting old is not for sissies, boy that’s an understatement. You look like you live in the smoky mt. part of the country. Or perhaps the Carolinas. I know it’s back east and mountainous. It’s beautiful wherever it is.
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Maybe we could make the principle “getting old is not for sissies” the basis of respect in our culture for old people (since we no longer consider old people important repositories of cultural lore or wisdom.) We could start a campaign. 🙂
It is beautiful here, and I’m lucky to live here. I remind myself of that when I find myself getting too whiny, which I have a tendency to do.
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Whiny, lol, have you read my blog? I don’t see you as being whiny.
What do you propose we call this campaign?
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I keep the whining off the blog. (I’ve been thinking about posting about my blog personna–I’m much nicer on the blog than in reality, and a bit stodgier.) And when I say whiny–I mean about little stuff. You have serious things to complain of–me, it tends to be things like all the parking spaces near my office are full and I have to walk in from a couple of blocks away in the rain. Which occasionally happens. What gets me whining is when I have to walk past 50 empty spaces that are reserved, for no apparent reason, for “official” vehicles. Whiny. You aren’t whining–you are teling important truths.
Names I’m not good at. Should be something catchy. Maybe we should kick the campaign off with a naming contest 🙂
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I get it. I wrote a bit about the topic today on my blog. Your words are at the top of the entry. I’m thinking about it. We’ll see what we come up with.
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Gorgeous pictures. I could use some spring.
Nice place you’ve got here. I followed Diane’s link.
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Peggy, thanks for dropping in, and your kind words.
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Beautiful blossoms! I just saw some when I was in San Francisco, but now that I’m back in New Mexico, it’s back to winter as well. I also followed Diane’s link.
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Diane, if you see this–please leave a comment to let me know how you are. I was in the process of leaving a comment on your blog when you deleted it. Just in case–below is what I was going to post on your blog.
Diane, trust you to take a rather flip remark I made and turn it into something moving.
I’ve come to appreciate my elders more as I’ve gotten older myself. I’m afraid when I was younger, I had my share of the arrogance of youth. Although, come to think about it, there were a number of wonderful old ladies–my grandmother, and several church ladies–that I thought were pretty cool, largely because they made me feel like a person they were interested in.
Getting old does have it’s benefits. I don’t get thrown off-center nearly as easily as I did when I was younger. And I’m seriously looking forward to my second childnood (retirement). No responsibilities! Whoopee!
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