You and that River

If we were having a beer, you’d be picking on my photo library again.

“So, I see you’re back on Flickr.”

“I never left Flickr.”

“Yeah, but you did that whole ‘private’ thing which left me staring at a ‘WoodWrkr hasn’t posted anything yet’ message. By the way, where did you get that stupid name?”

“OK, working backwards, when I joined Flickr, you could only have an eight-character screen name. As for the private thing, I changed it to friends and family and I listed you as a friend.”

“Really?”

“Are you surprised?”

“I’m not surprised that you consider us friends, I’m surprised you remembered to go back and do something about it. You aren’t the best with details.”

“Speaking of details, wine? Beer? Wings? Mussels? What’s it gonna be guys?”

“Do you have Dos Equis Cheryl?

“We do not. I don’t know why we don’t, a lot of people ask for it.”

“I guess you have to stay thirsty my friend. I couldn’t resist, now that we’re officially friends.”

“I’ll have a Yuengling, and whatever my ‘friend’ wants.”

“Oh, he’s going for bourbon, Dan. You should never telegraph the tab like that.”

“Woodford Reserve, Cheryl. But, can I ask a favor?”

“Sure.”

“Put it in a brandy snifter and bring me a glass of ice on the side.”

“I can do that. That’s how your other buddy drinks his Vodka.”

“Marty, yes. That’s where I go the idea.”

“I’ll just have the Yuengling in a frosted glass. He’s entitled to some kindness after that game on Thursday.”

“Coming right up.”

“So, what made you want to try the snifter thing?”

“A snifter is easier to hold, and Marty’s right about the ice. Let it melt in a glass where it doesn’t matter. Add a little at a time.”

“Interesting. I would have thought you would be more set in your ways.”

“No, I think that’s your claim to fame.”

“Why do you say that? Is it the beer? I did ask for a different brand…”

“No, it’s Flickr.”

“What now with Flickr?”

“Well, now that we’re friends, I looked at your photostream and, surprise surprise, photos from Great River Park.”

“It’s on my way to work. What would you prefer, the truck stop in Hartford?”

“There’s Riverside Park.”

“I do stop there occasionally, but I feel more at ease after I’ve crossed the river.”

“But what’s the big deal with stopping at all. Why not just go to work, or go have breakfast?”

“There’s something about a river, that’s good for the soul.”

“I get that, but you’ve seen it a thousand times.”

“It’s never the same river.”

“He’s right. Here’s your beer, your Bourbon, and your ice.”

“You had to add that ‘he’s right’, Cheryl. You couldn’t just ignore that comment?”

“He is right. Water, whatever form, rivers, lakes or the ocean is never the same. That’s part of the attraction.”

“I don’t get it. Maybe the ocean, but the Connecticut River. I mean it’s a minor player.”

“400 miles…a minor player?”

“It’s not navigable for most of that. It’s not like it’s powering textile mills and generating power.”

“I think it made its contribution. It also took its share of abuse. I see nothing wrong with celebrating its inherent value as a watershed, water source, provider of rich farmland and home for wildlife.”

“OK, fine, but it’s not like you live there. You don’t farm, you don’t own a jet-ski, hell, you don’t even fish.”

“It reminds me of growing up in Pittsburgh. I’ve always been attracted to rivers.”

“I’ve seen the pictures of that dirt-water creek you grew up next to. Hardly the stuff of fond memories.”

“That’s pronounced ‘crick’ and it definitely is a source of fond memories.”

“It looks disgusting.”

“There were days, but I spent a lot of time with my grandmother, in her garden on the banks of that crick.”

“I guess if Great River Park works for you, it works. But it’s hardly the Ohio River.”

“It starts in Pittsburg.”

“I know the Ohio starts in Pittsburgh. I was talking about the Connecticut.”

“I know. It starts in Pittsburg.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Pittsburg, New Hampshire…no ‘H’ “

“You’re hopeless.”

“Speaking of hopeless, I’m wondering if we’re going to crack the twenty-dollar mark on this bar tab.”

“Not to worry, Cheryl. I am ready for another beer. Give him another splash of ‘brandy’ and let’s see a menu.”

“Forget the menu. Just put an order of Calamari in. Since my friend is yearning for the sea.”

“You mean since your friend is buying.”

“My friend is buying…now that’s good for the soul.”

The gallery shows that there have been other pictures taken, they haven’t been uploaded to Flickr yet.

You have to look really close, but there’s a Heron flying away from breakfast.

An accident on the highway forced me off onto East River Dr and Great River Park

Looking south along the Connecticut River

Rant – this is a Klondike? What the heck happened?

A good time to be leaving work

Maddie is in there somewhere.

Walking Maddie after a night of rain

It rained last night

Pinky! One of Maddie’s favorite toys. Actually she inherited it from a former setter.

No, I’m not driving into the river. I’m just parking.

I have a friend who works in that building and a coworker who used to work there.

The river changes and so does the light. It’s never the same twice.

Chartiers Creek – this runs past the house where I lived until I was about 10.

Workmen heading across the river on the railroad bridge

Zinnia

Marigolds

Rowing on the river.

Full moon breaking out from the clouds