Where was once gravel is now concrete

The men wade in the concrete in rubber boots, less walking through mud as through butterscotch pudding. It laps in ripples around their legs, as they stand wide, smoothing the thick pool with their squeegees.

Neighborhood children pace the adjacent street anxiously, hungrily, wanting to touch it, to cleave it with a stick, to leave their marks upon it. They hang and ring around like vultures, one driving a mini John Deere gator, its motor and tires whining as badly as its driver. He outlines the edge of the street, inches from the drive, leaning in.

A dark-haired fellow on his bike, getting a tow from the gator, is also trying to get a touch. They are rebuffed, driven away, by the woman with a broom whose back is turned, looking through her third eye. No concrete demarcation for them.

The men, a generation removed from Amish, are rapt to their work. They wield their tools like spatulas, more focused than grandma, forming the concrete cake. They ice, they trowel, they spread and smooth. Pudding puddle no more, the dug up ground with all its buried treasure is a memory, invisible, preserved under the hardening composite above. A worker's cigarette butts smoked down to the filter, small leaves, gravel bits start to collect on the surface.

One neighbor child is hopeful, and has brought and offered freezer pops as a reward to the concrete crew, but the gleam in his eye dashes when kidded about the loss of a finger if the surface is compromised. He had badly wanted to write in the goo, and took off dejected. When will he ever have a chance to touch virgin concrete? Woe is he.

The children stick toes out to it, and sticks, testing. Later they try quickly jumping on and off, as if that, perhaps, would leave less of a mark. The drier, the whiter it becomes. Later, spinning, dust-smoke saws are brought to cut grooves to keep

it from cracking later.

No marks, no names, no autographs were left behind. Faceless, ageless, the concrete will stand, anonymous, no memories of families, no hands for children grown to touch later, no ghosts to see, no urges indulged.

Time to think of New York

A good craftsman leaves no traces. -unknown

One of my best memories of the whole summer of 2011 is of my time spent at the Indiana dunes lake shore by Michigan City. The colors, the light in the sky was spectacular the day this photo was taken, and the day before, in early August. Yet, the light didn't look the same away from the lake.

The shoreline in New York City will never look the same, but it has become time to reflect upon it. This coming Sunday will be the tenth anniversary of the attack on the United States on September 11, 2011. Our country has gone on to rebuild, face new problems, and come back around to reflect on what has happened since. Osama is gone, and the World Trade Center site is being rebuilt - and that's been a tremendous process.

Design contests. Interconnected, complicated authority, security, environmental, human memorial, considerations. Creative tension on a huge scale. The amazing synergy that is New York City. I stand in awe from Indiana. I had the privilege of being there one time, in about 2003, before the wreckage was even completely all gone. Security around it was tight then. But we walked into nearby Trinity Church, which had miraculously been spared of destruction that day, and many visitors were there praying and paying homage.

In the nearby financial center building, we also saw various mock-ups from the memorial design contest. They were beautiful models, dioramas or what have you, and it felt hopeful to stroll among them. I love the option that was chosen - the two reflecting pools in the Twin Towers' footprints, with tiered waterfalls cascading down inside.

The names of all the people killed in the tragedy will line this area somehow - the names will appear black by day, and lit by night. A landscape of trees and oak benches will surround the footprints - a peaceful park. The new skyscrapers will be in other places - nothing will rise in the space of the twin towers. I love the two beams of light that have beckoned out in their place - who thought of that? How perfect, as a memory.

It will be a while before the new skyscrapers will be completed, and that's a story for another day, but there's some fascinating architecture going on as a result. So many things proposed and scrapped, and so much to do - a new metro transportation center first of all, and I recently learned of the new performing arts center there somewhere also - I look forward to going back.

Meanwhile we remember and watch the news, and learn about the people again. Children born without fathers are turning ten soon. Let us help them find the joy somehow. Let us all find it. Peace be upon you.

Random Things to Like

While others deal with hurricane Irene and the resulting storm surge, we are blessed with beautiful weather - still able to swim and water ski. It doesn't do any good to feel guilty about this. One just has to count one's blessings and seize the beautiful day. We must appreciate the light in the clouds, the changing angles of the sun. The colors.

A few things I like:
Malt pancake mix from Meier. I made pancakes this morning, and the malt has a nutty richness that can't be duplicated.

Cleopatra is back in the news. One of my favorite icons, to me she never goes out of style. A great queen (by ancient standards), a lover, a mother, a style icon. Her city, Alexandria, was the wonderful intellectual gem of Egypt. Cincinnati has a traveling exhibit of statues and other art from the city on display right now, treasures reclaimed from the sea.

Hummingbirds that buzz by. The sound of one - whether in Colorado or Indiana, the rich buzzing, what joy. Who wouldn't like to have the mobility of a hummingbird? They come in different sizes, but the revving sound is still the same. Nature's fascinating mechanics.

Children that live close enough to school to be able to walk. To not have to get in a car every time you want to go somewhere. Small town mom and pop stores trying to go back in. There is one in our area called Uppity Trash that I am going to have to check out.

A clean bird bath and a gazing ball. Simple simple things. The Sunday morning newspaper. Walking to get it. Blue stem prairie grass starting to mount up.

It's high school football time. Late August, early September is great for this, while it's light later and the air is warmer. Good luck, all you boys of summer.

Poem for August

August, remembering February

The ground is too stubborn to give way. I try to spade up the red buds, as they have volunteered themselves under the giant pine.

They will not budge. I look for a new tool, but I ultimately must wait until the ground is wetter, the trees dormant. I hope I have time to dig then.

I think back, back to the day in winter, when the children built the snow fort under the sandbox lid and sleds. The photo, published on facebook. My father said, "daughter, it takes three children to raise a village."

Profound, prophetic, ironic, some of the final words. Our connection over thousands of miles; our blizzard, his California sunshine. His sunlit air, his flight.

How I wanted to fly after him, catching up with his spirit, before it ascended. Or catching it, and bringing it back.

Now I give up struggling in my yard. The trees will wait for a cooler day. Sometimes I'm looking at what he looked at, seeing it as he did. Can I bring the day back, February, commenting on my photo, change destiny? When I think of that day, I think I can. Then time slips forward again, no one stopped him to fly. So I pause somehow that day: hold it precious.

Back to the Zoo

The orangutans, or "men of the mountain", seem extremely intelligent. Of any animal at the Fort Wayne Children's Zoo, they seem strikingly the most human-like. It's fairly easy to get a close look at the pair exhibited in the Indonesian Rain Forest, as they enjoy swinging around on the artificial vines.

Also a real crowd favorite - the banded mongooses. Would that be mongeese? I think not. There are reportedly 25 in the exhibit, and they sleep all snuggled up against each other, even in the hot daytime - is that a defense position against marauding predators? Whatever it is, they really look cute snoring all piled up in a jam. They are in the Africa section. The colony began with with a party of seven adults several years ago.

The big cats - Bengal tiger, lions, a leopard - always fun to see at the zoo. I especially enjoy the many primate exhibits. The spaces around the boardwalk in Indonesia are nice - forested cages built right into the Franke Park woods, with big spaces for the apes and monkeys to climb. The siamangs bring their babies close to the fence, and they pull leaves through the bars. These animals are monogamous, and the males take over the care of infants when they are about two years old. Modern parenting, I love it.

I also loved the bongo drums set up in the Africa section - so many bolted down there's room for a whole impromptu band jam session. I'm definitely a fan, once again. I'll be going back many times if fate allows. Please come with me!

Fort Wayne Children's Zoo

It really is Fort Wayne's premier tourist attraction. One can go there time and time again and have a great experience each time. There are so many different things to do there, one blog entry can't really paint a complete picture.

But I do have some tips for a great zoo experience. One, from my years of working there, is try going first thing Sunday morning. In Fort Wayne, the zoo opens at 9 a.m. and there are relatively few cars in the parking lot. That means clearer views of the animals, the activity of feeding and energy first thing, and a clean zoo.

Our zoo is a place you can still go for a pony ride. Take your grandchildren or children, whomever they are, and let them have the visceral experience of sitting on a moving horse. This zoo also still has the old fashioned farm animal exhibit and goat pen where one can buy a cup filled with pellets and feed the goats. Little kids want to pet, touch the animals - that's how they learn, connect. One goat liked my skin lotion - he kept licking my knee. They'll eat your shirt tails if you aren't careful.

I especially enjoyed the revamped African Veldt section - they actually had honey badgers! Have you seen the viral honey badger videos over the Internet? It's all the rage. They are some impressive oddities of nature. A hugely popular display is that of the giraffes - a few young ones of various sizes, and visitors can feed them leaves of lettuce - another crowd favorite. I have only covered a few spots in the zoo, but I'll just have to revisit this another day. It's worth many more looks. Try the Dairy Queen on your way out.

Body surfing in Lake Michigan

The water was perfectly pleasant for swimming: neither too cold nor too warm, but refreshing, delightful. The winds were gusty, maybe up to 15-20 mph, and it created a fun, rolling surf that was just right to dive into and swim through. Challenging surf, but no gagging salt taste when one got knocked over by a wave; no jellyfish or anemones, or sharp coral - hey, this was not bad at all!

We were at a private beach access at Michigan City, IN - we had walked down from my friend's family condo. Lovely beach grass, beaches not too crowded - it was a pleasant surprise. There was lots to do in that area - an attractive park and zoo up by the waterfront, picnic areas, a waterside attraction. We walked out the breakwater to the lighthouse - surf was breaking over the concrete barrier a little, but we managed to get to the building to take a snap shot.

The Blue Chip Casino is nearby - I think it would be fun to get a hotel room, play a little black jack and then ride a cute cruiser bicycle the short distance down to the beach. Or find a private house to rent, or such. Usually the water is so cold - 2011 has had such a hot summer, the big lake seems surprisingly more attractive. I heard there were lots of summer vacancies what with the lukewarm economy. I can definitely say I plan to go back, and take some children who have never swam in the great lake. Doing so is quite an experience.