It’s probably better to get run over by a rhinoceros than a city bus. Yesterday morning a driver ran a red light at 3rd & Gold, and was broadsided by a city bus. The occupants of the car were taken to the hospital, the bike on the front of the bus was smashed up and a passenger on the bus had minor injuries. These are the city bus investigators at the scene.
Tonight’s sunset through the trees by the Corrales park was quite colorful tonight.
Jesse’s Coffee Hub in Corrales is offering Gelato Burritos — if you are feeling adventurous, the triple venti, gluten free, chocolate, orange barrel crush with sausage, bacon, double cheese, eggs, spam, spam, eggs and spam is pretty tasty. I noticed while I was trying to get my dumb phone to read the DR Code on the back of a DIGBY truck, the driver was taking the idea of an orange barrel crush literally. Another sign that spring is almost here: more people are strolling around downtown enjoying the mild temperature in the late afternoon light.
On my way back from photographing the sunset in the bosque, I stopped to photograph the horses in the soft light at dusk. My buddy, Turbo, came out to say hi, and wanted to be included in the photo session as well.
The dance was really fun. We’ll have another dance the first Friday in April!
While I was out at the river at sunset, the bald eagle flew by high along the opposite bank of the river. As it passed the face of the Sandias, it caught up with a flock of crows. A few crows fell in behind the eagle at first, then the crows’ flight became more chaotic as the eagle flew through them. Five cranes flew close to me at dusk, they probably couldn’t see me in the low light, and the high ISO produced interesting images. The Sandias turned a nice “watermelon” pink tonight.
When the old Territorial House burned on July 23, 2012, I was saddened by the damage to the historic landmark I had grown up with, worked on, and even performed in. The demolition started last week and the first two photos show all that was left of it at 8:00 am this morning. I took the last photo of the orange barrels on my way to class this afternoon as I imagined the stormy sky marked the time that the last vestiges of the T-House were dumped in a trucked to be hauled away. The site where the 213 year old hacienda once stood was vacant and scraped clean when I passed by on my way home tonight.
I found Rosencrantz, Guildenstern and Puck keeping an eye on each other when I got home from photographing the Sandias and cranes this morning.
Apparently Stretch is becoming a comics connoisseur from Laurie reading Tintin while we waterboard him (subcutaneous fluids for renal failure) every night, because when I went back out to the kitchen last night after he thought we had gone to bed, I found him reading the funnies that Laurie had left on her book holder. He was so engrossed that I was able to sneak a photo before he noticed me and slinked off, looking a little embarrassed.
When the Sandias turned pink at sunset, I decided to try a panorama through the bare cottonwoods. While I was photographing the mountains, a great blue heron landed on a cottonwood between the irrigation and clearwater ditches, affording me the opportunity to get a pretty clear photo of it. When I was going back inside, Puck had all his attention fixed on something. I couldn’t see what it was, but he was so concentrated that I snapped the photo of him. The shutter clicking interrupted his concentration, he glanced at me, then started looking around as if he was trying to find the object of his attention, scolded me with a few choice meows when he seemed not to see it again (I assume he was saying “nice going stupid ¡#%&^@$*! photographer”), then he jumped down off the railing and came inside with me. When I went out a little later, I was able to get a detailed shot of the moon in the clear, cold, winter sky.
There were a lot of band tour buses parked out behind the office this afternoon, so I looked up on the Sunshine Theater’s schedule to see who was playing tonight. As usual I had never heard of or heard any of the groups listed, so I looked up samples of their music on Youtube. The first group in the list is Emmure and the music video I chose at random was what I would call hyper-grunge with caveman lyrics, although to be fair, cavemen were probably much more clear and articulate. After a few painful seconds on listening to Emmure, I looked up Whitechapel, the next group on the list, and the random song I chose sounded just like the song I listened to by Emmure. I had to do a double take to make sure I hadn’t reloaded Emmure — I hadn’t. Obey The Brave and The Plot In You also sounded the same to me. If I got it right, these bands tour together as Brothers of Brutality and from the snippets of the songs I listened to, they are brutal.
I guess I’m getting too old, because I don’t know why the groups want to subject themselves to themselves, or why anyone else, of any age, would want to subject themselves to the Brothers of Brutality, but there is an appeal that goes beyond both my understanding and sensitivities. I left the office a little after 5:00 pm tonight, a bit later than I had intended since I was supposed to pick up Laurie and Tristan at school at 5:00 pm. When I walked out the door the cold hit me like a stinging slap on my face, and I shivered as I walked to the car. While I was sitting at the light at 2nd and Gold, I got a text from Laurie that read “Hypothermia!” The light turned green and as I drove by the Sunshine theater, I noticed that many of the kids who waiting in line for The Brothers of Brutality concert were wearing short sleeve shirts and shorts, and many of the girls who were wearing jeans had slits all over them and plenty of flesh exposed to the cold air. Maybe being brutalized by the elements is a required to properly experience The Bothers of Brutality? Call me old, call me a prude, but it’s much too brutal and mysterious for me.
We got a little snow before I went to class at UNM this afternoon, then the clouds broke up for a couple of hours, regrouped and it started snowing again. We got over an inch in Corrales, and I drove most of the way home in a blizzard. The storm let up as I got on the west side of Albuquerque, where I was able to get a panorama of it snowing on the east side. The snow had hardly settled on a wall at UNM before a student walked in it.
Off Center & Not Even 