It’s been about 10 years since the viral “I Like Turtles” zombie kid video, a video I’ve thought about many times in the intervening years, so in tribute I’ll post this brick of turtles Ellie and I passed on our walk through the neighborhood.
Our cat Emma also liked turtles. For the record, so do I.
Beautiful outdoor art on an old garage? Are they trying to seduce me?
“What would you like to know?” asked the Oracle.
“What year will I die?”
“The answer is at your feet,” she said.
I looked down as numbers suddenly appeared in the concrete. “2146? Are you sure?”
“Of course I’m sure!”
“It’s just that it’s 130 years from now, and I’m already 50.”
“Ah, well, you’ll be mostly robot by then.”
“I see. Will my death be peaceful?”
“For you or the dinosaur?”
“I’ve said too much!”
I was sent this picture by a version of myself in a parallel universe, where he says things are pretty great. He’s kind of a jerk to be honest.
One downside to living in an urban neighborhood is that I don’t see much wildlife near the house. But perhaps I just haven’t been looking closely enough, as while walking Ellie I noticed a frog, a bird, and some rabbits, all within a block of each other.
They were clearly accustomed to not only humans but also dogs, as they didn’t seem to be bothered by either my presence or the faithful pup waiting beside me.
This entrance artwork sits above the oval entrance to the Cathlapotle plankhouse at Ridgefield National Wildlife Refuge. The art was designed by Tony Johnson from the Chinook Nation and executed by Adam McIsaac.
Several people in the neighborhood post poetry outside their homes, either in a dedicated housing or in this case, attached to a large tree by the street. Sometimes the poetry is self-written, while some highlight the work of others. Ellie and I pass by this tree pretty frequently on our walks, depending on the route she wants to take home, and the postings change over time, a Pooh quote below and a poem above. I was rather struck by the current poem, Langston Hughes‘ “I, Too”. I despised poetry in my youth so it’s not surprising that I was familiar with neither poem nor poet, but I was both moved and educated on our walk that evening.
I, too, sing America.
I am the darker brother.
They send me to eat in the kitchen
When company comes,
But I laugh,
And eat well,
And grow strong.
I’ll be at the table,
When company comes.
Say to me,
“Eat in the kitchen,”
They’ll see how beautiful I am
And be ashamed —
I, too, am America.
My whiteboard art doesn’t seem to be getting better from year to year, although I am making increasing use of color. I’m hoping that my art form (known as stickism) will catch on and I can start paying for my meals by signing napkins like Picasso.