In the Highland Park fountain. It was late in the afternoon.
Leaves swirling, their shadows moving along with the water flow.
Almost looks like a sidewalk, the stone bottom. It was hard to show the depth.
Leaves in water are different from blowing around, they’re stuck to the surface, weighted down.
I watched them for awhile, waiting for someone.
You head to the garage and see your car another shade, coated with road salt, winter splash and grime. Crystals and slosh.
There was salt shortage this year so the secondary roads didn’t always get treated. You’d never know there was a shortage to look at the car.
You try to not rub up against it. On a dry, warm day you make your way to the gas station car wash.
While you’re sitting in the driver’s seat, you watch the car wash water stream, soap, bubble, spray.
You see drops, drips, rivulets, sheets of water in patterns across the windshield.
Capture it with your phone.
You head to the grocery store.
When you come out you can’t find your car because the color of paint is showing again, without the salty haze. Unrecognizable. Clean.
Standing on the Roberto Clemente Bridge from Sixth Street. Saturday night.
Highland Park Reservoir Monday evening, just before dark. Lots of people walking the perimeter in the summer-like weather. A few years ago there was a plan to cover the reservoir but a filtration system was installed instead. Scroll down for two ducks look like three.