Sunday, June 12, 2016
We were at our cabin in Knox County, Ohio, the week of Memorial Day,
so we went to the parade and ceremony in nearby Danville.
Actually, we arrived too late to see most of the parade, but at least I got some pictures of the part of the parade I wanted to see most--the riding club for special needs kids.
PELIA stand for "Positive Equine Learning in Action".
I love it that the horses wore red, white and blue ribbons on their tails.
After parading down Main Street, they passed a bank and a large pasture before turning right to go into a farm at the edge of town. All the cows that had been calmly grazing near the bank building turned and dashed like crazy things across the field as if to greet the horses.
After the parade, a brief ceremony honored the sons and daughters of Danville who had died defending their country. The high school band played "America the Beautiful."
Then a speaker talked about a recently fallen soldier. Her voice broke. She had the mother come forward and she hugged her. The words on the T-shirts on the couple in the photo captured the spirit of the day: "Danville: Small Town, Big Heart."
Friday, June 3, 2016
The flotilla of geese gliding on the mirror lake
Blurt out the name of the town:
Burke! Burke! Burke!
The iris purples the water's edge,
Ignoring their nasty noise.
A red-winged blackbird
Longs to perch on cattail or cornstalk
In the sea of suburban green,
And finding none, he grumps:
Burke Burkity Burke.
Thursday, June 2, 2016
Tuesday, May 10, 2016
I think what the woman was wearing is called a chador. She was dressed head to toe in a flowing black robe. Only her eyes were visible. Passing through the hall at the Senior Center, she paused for a few minutes to watch our Zumba class. Eight men and women of various ethnicities faced an instructor who led them through a fast-paced dance combining elements of salsa, cumbia and cha-cha. I wonder what she thought. Was she scandalized or did she long to join us?
Such women are becoming a more common sight in our town. About twenty years ago, I was in the the old mall when a chador-wearing woman rode down the escalator with her husband and two sons. The man and his boys were dressed like any other American male in July. They wore shorts, tee shirts, sandals and baseball caps. Maybe her black tent-like garment protected the woman from the summer heat, but it looked heavy. Somehow I doubt it. A nearby African-American man who was watching them turned to his little boy and said, "Now you just know they're not from around here."