I walked 2.5 miles yesterday in a short window of time between appointments. The north-end neighborhood I visited — or was it the hazy marine air — was photographically uninspiring, so I'm sharing a shot of a Tiger Swallowtail, newborn and flawless, sunning on Kaaren's hydrangea.
But speaking of neighborhoods, each one has its own personality. As does each house, of course, when we stop to look closely. Yesterday's neighborhood, though in an upscale part of the city, had a drab quality overall. Most of the front yards betrayed a lack of attention. I imagined the neighborhood as housing a transient population, perhaps more focused upon upward mobility than upon deepening roots. There were the exceptional houses with beautiful yards; I remember one in particular with an exquisite rock garden set off by colorful plants. On the other hand, I passed a couple of houses with overgrown brambles and broken, littered walkways -- the kind of places that as kids we would have said were haunted. Today we'd more likely say they looked like meth houses.
My city's multiple personalities keep it fascinating for me. I find both the beautiful and the ugly good stimulation for prayer.
