This morning, rather than torturing myself with Boot Camp at the Y, Chris and I took Esmeralda for a nice long walk, down to Echo Park Lake, around it, and back. Esmeralda did very well. No meltdowns while passing other dogs. And there were no skunks along the way, so she didn’t feel the need to profess her love for the smelly cats.
This is me, fired up and ready to go.
I conducted my usual experiment, saying good morning to everyone who would make eye contact, seeing how many good mornings I got back. (14 out of 21, with 13 no-eye-contacts)
The last time we walked around the lake, we saw two blue herons and a brown heron. No blue herons today, but there were some brown ones on the island. The island was inaccessible; it’s closed off so the birds can hang without being harassed. Not close enough for a good shot. And no loti are blooming in the lake. Very sad.
But the lake was full of ducks and geese and coots. Didn’t get close enough to any of the geese (which was a good thing, Esmeralda having the freak out temperament she has). But we saw a coot and a baby coot:
And a mama duck with her ducklings:
While we were walking, I finally figured out a story point I’d been fiddling with for weeks (huzzah).
On the way back we passed some urban art: a painted mattress, on the site where an apartment building collapsed a few years back, at the corner of Echo Park and Park.
And, lest we forget the jewelry angle, I think the moonstone earrings I made match the color of the June gloom sky.
I know. It’s no mattress art. But so little is.