Thus I present a travelogue of my morning walk with Mr. James.
Bicyclists out early this morning.We also encountered a man walking a dog that was either a Boxer puppy or another Boston terrier. He didn't speak English well so I couldn't quite understand the particulars, but the dog's name was Chula. She was much better behaved than Mr. James. I'm sorry I didn't get a good picture of her and her person. I appreciated meeting them this morning.
On the left is a look at my view from the walking trail, built on the route of old streetcar rails that once served what were then city suburbs. On the right is the view from Mr. James' perspective. I like my view better. I doubt that he cares.
Volunteers from the neighborhood plant flowers and bushes at the bus stops and street entrances. I am not one of those volunteers, for good reason -- the plants would not survive my care. But I appreciate the effort of those who tend them throughout the year.
And now we're almost home. The house is that of our neighbor to the east, the brick steps lead to our house. The trees are sweet gums, which drop nasty spiny balls in the fall, but right now they shade the street beautifully.
I love my neighborhood. Thank you, Mr. James, for encouraging me to pay attention to it this morning.