The past 20 hours: three scenes from Wards Road

Jacob and Muzzy, top of Wards Road, last night's walk.

Car coming down Ward's Road, noon walk.

Van off the road, today's walk. Jacob and I first spotted this van on last night's walk. A car was coming down the hill, so I focused on this vehicle to see, if by chance, the reflection of the headlights of that car off the snow might cast enough light on this vehicle for me to take a photograph.

As I stood there, camera pointed at the disabled van, a car pulled up and stopped. Sitting at the wheel was a middle-aged lady with silver streaks in her hair and beside her, a young man - maybe late teens or early 20's, his features slender and sharp.

They looked at us with what appeared to be a mix of hostility and suspicion.

"That's my vehicle," the young man stated emphatically, "I slid off the road earlier today."

It was clear to me that he suspected that we might have some kind of evil intent towards his vehicle.

"You slid off the road, huh? That must have given you a thrill."

He assured me that it had not; that he had been calm and collected through the entire descent and that it was no big deal. He had even managed to drive the car enough to reposition it a bit so that it would be easier to haul out.

"Looks like you're a little short on manpower to pull it out right now," I noted the obvious.

"We're going to come back and get it tomorrow," he said.

"I don't think you have anything to worry about," I told him. "It should be safe. Nobody but a pedestrian could see it and there won't be many of them, maybe just us."

I wished him luck. They went there way, we went our way.

I do not blame him for being suspicious. Cars left alongside the road overnight out here often greet the next morning with their wheels and tires gone, their windows smashed, anything of value removed.

But now it is day and the car is still there, in view for all who pass by to see. Hopefully, they will yank it out of there before dark.

This time of year, if it isn't dark, it soon will be.

A wreck at Parks & Main; another in the kitchen

Tow truck driver. He has just arrived at the scene. Locked in traffic, I drive by at a creep. I had just dropped Margie off at work and now I was headed home.

Police officer, walking towards truck driver. Looks pretty minor. Driver of car peers out sheepishly. I do not know anything about this accident other than what is in the picture. That's how it is when you drive - you get all kinds of glimpses of other people's lives: happy moments, sad, tragic, routine, mundane, and most often that is all the information about these people whose lives crossed yours that you will ever have.

The wreck in the kitchen. Kalib has discovered a new musical instrument. Oddly enough, wherever he wanders in the house these days, this is what it looks like behind him.

Music to drive home from Wal-Mart by

I had the radio tuned to KSKA, Anchorage Public Radio, when I dropped Margie off at Wal-Mart the other day. A program called, "Rock Island Line" was on the air. The song, as these people walked in front of me into the parking lot, was Bob Dylan's, "Blowing in the Wind," as performed by Peter, Paul and Mary.

I drove home via the low road along the railroad tracks. Right here, the song was "This Land is Your Land," performed by Woody Guthrie himself. I am among those who believe this should be our national anthem.

While it might sound odd to some, as I listened to Guthrie sing, "from California to the New York Islands, from the redwood forests to the gulf-stream waters, this land was made for you and me," I thought of a certain young woman in India, who I call Muse, and who will marry soon. Someday, I hope to play this song in my car, for she and her husband, as I drive them down an American road.

An Alaskan road...

Now, back to Bob Dylan, with help from the Son of David, Ecclesiastes 3:1-8: "To Every Thing There is a Season," or maybe the title is "Turn, Turn" this time performed by Joan Baez.

A Season was still playing when I came upon these two ravens. I pulled into a turnout, and shot through the open window.

One raven flew away. These three boys came walking by.

"Black Bird," by the Beatles, as I passed beneath this raven. That's a lie. I don't remember what song was broadcast here. I wish that it had been "Black Bird." But then you wouldn't have believed me.

Bob Dylan again - this time, performed by Bob Dylan: "Shelter From the Storm." Most appropriate.

Still "Shelter."

Altogether too appropriate: "Cumbaya" A few years back, I heard about a crash on this corner that killed a mother and her baby. Shortly after that, someone put up the cross on the left.

The cross on the right came later. It says, "Dad." I do not know the story.

"Someone's crying, my Lord, Cumbaya, someone's crying, my Lord, Cumbaya..." I don't remember who was singing. So many have done this song and when I remember back to this moment, I can hear different versions of it in my head.

"The Eerie Canal." Again, I cannot recall the performers."

"Winkin and Blinkin and nod..." The boy carries a rifle.

"Michael, Row the Boat Ashore..."

Puff, the Magic Dragon - Peter, Paul and Mary, of course.

"Mommas, don't let your babies grow up to be cowboys..." - Willie Nelson. Not really... another lie. But it is a cow. Cow moose. Someone ought to enter it in a rodeo, let some cowboy chase it on a horse, lasso it, trip it, jump off his horse, tie its hoofs together and then raise his hands into the air.

I wonder how fast he could do it?

Tired, lazy, busy

Lazy today. Tired, too. Still two hours before normal bedtime, can hardly keep eyes open. Busy today, too, but accomplished nothing. Took a total of only two pictures, all day. This one, when I was driving to Taco Bell by myself. I forgot to change the ISO from indoors, so it was set at 1600, shutter speed 1/60. Then I also shot through a dirty, cracked window.

Still, it is what I saw, so here it is.

And this one, while gassing up my car as the guy getting out of the gas truck gasses up the gas station.

Compared to the other morning, it had warmed up greatly, about 30 degrees. The temperature was in the 20's, but the wind blew brisk and I wore a light jacket, which I was too lazy to zip up. So even though it was warm, it felt damn cold, standing there, gassing up the car, listening to the rattling diesel engine of the truck run as it pumped gas into the gas station.

I have great ambitions for this blog. What I am doing for now is using it to hold the space, until I can figure out how to find the time to build it into what I want it to become.

Where others failed, the quest to succeed persists

It was just November 20 when I posted a picture taken at the corner of Seldon and Church, about two miles from this corner, Seldon and Lucille, of a sign that looked very much like this, except that it advertised gas at $2.79. That was notably lower than any other gas that I had seen in Wasilla at that time.

Now Wasilla gas has fallen and seems to be selling from about $2.65 to $2.69.

So the owners of the new business on the unlikely, out-of-the main way, Seldon and Church gas station, have lowered their prices even more, and have spread the message to a distant corner.

See the mini-mini mall in the background? Interestingly enough, there used to be a sledding hill there. Kids would bring their sleds from all around. What a great time they would have!

Then someone cut the hill down and built this little mini-mall. It, too, seemed like an unlikely place for such a business, yet a stream of enterprises set up shop within, from a coffee shop to movie rentals and even, if I recall correctly, a rug seller. Every space filled. 

All failed. Every space emptied. Several reopened, including a string of coffee shops that went in and out of the same location, but then emptied again. Then a church moved in and now there is a little pre-school or daycare center that may or may not be affiliated with the church. I suppose I should find out. 

Margie got off work at 4:00 PM today. Here I am, driving to pick her up.