westward ho

The greenbelt runs along the Boise river for more than ten miles. It starts in the east at Lucky Peak dam and runs through downtown Boise and then on through Garden City. A paved biking/walking path lines one side or the other and, for much of the Boise Downtown section, both sides. I've been up and down both sides of the river downtown and some of the way to Lucky Peak. Okay, I've driven alongside the part that runs from downtown to Lucky Peak. Someday I'll ride my bike to Lucky Peak but not this year - I honestly can't see myself riding out there the next few weeks and with Fall arriving the weather will only hold for a few more weeks.
Tonight I tossed the dogs in the car and drove down to the greenbelt and walked west - toward Garden City. I haven't been down that end either. It's less developed or more properly, less redeveloped. There are empty, vacant lots and rundown light industrial facilities in parts but much of it is simply "open space" right up against the river. I saw a few people fly fishing. A family was enjoying skipping stones. We were passed by quite a few bikers. It seemed everyone wanted to get another trip on the greenbelt before it gets too cold.
Even now there are signs of Autumn all along the river. The locust trees are turning yellow already but they are the first to go each year. The wild grapes are turning bright blue on brilliant red stalks. Here and there oaks are turning red along with various creeping vines. The ducks and Canada Geese are flocking in preparation for their migrations. They fly low over the river and honk their lonesome calls to one another. I have a friend who doesn't like to see the leaves turn color because it means that winter is coming soon. It makes me a little sad to know they don't enjoy the moments, however brief, that make up Fall.

art in the park

Each fall Boise hosts "Art in the Park". It kicks off a month or two of community arts and faires. The Hyde Park Street Fair will be next weekend. It's Boise's version of Bohemia, hippy, summer of love remembrance. Think flower children come grandparents selling crystals, Alpaca wool garments, massage, and homoeopathic cure alls. But that's next week's blog.
Art in the Park. Each fall Julia Davis Park is overrun with masses of tents crammed with ketch, crafts, jewelery, cottage industry clothing, and rarely but still represented: fine art. Bands play in the center of the park at the band shell, surrounded by drive up "lunch wagons" selling everything from gyros to corn dogs.
Hundreds of people mill around dragging or being dragged by at least that many dogs (how many Great Danes can there be in Boise? I'm sure I saw all of them enjoying the arts)!
We met our friends in front of the Boise Art Museum and wandered through the fair with four children in tow. We weren't exactly aimless as our friends had a couple of items to pick up that their children had outgrown the previous year. The children had ideas of their own, the littlest one had her heart set on shaved ice. "Ice Daddy, ice," was her response to each question addressed to her. Mostly we enjoyed the sun, the ketch, and the easy slow paced conversation with good friends as we wandered beneath the towering trees.
We strolled though the rose garden at the end of our day while the children played hide and seek. What is it about a garden that children love to run along the paths among the formal plantings? The sky was blue and the sun hot and we all left exhausted. We were grateful we hadn't ridden our bikes like so many environmentally conscious Boiseans as we would never have made it home, our own power long gone.

where does the time go?

Another month and not too many posts to show for it. I can't believe how fast time flies. Still, we're in my favorite time of year - the end of the summer and beginning of autumn. The temperature is a pleasant 80 degrees, and drops gently as the sun sets so sitting in the backyard after dinner reading is a great pleasure. The crickets still hum and the birds chirp as they settle in for the night.
I was reading in the yard just last night and when twilight settled in and there was not enough light to red by I sat and watch the garden. The sky turned from a beautiful blue to pale violet and then deeper purple as the sunlight faded. The colors seemed to glow from within: the red roses like burning coals, the yellow day lilies like little magic lanterns, and the black eyed susans like shooting stars frozen in mid flight.
The crickets and cicadas were discussing who knows what in the trees and grass - a pleasant hum and rhythmic buzz. A few birds winged through the yard rushing home but they didn't offer as much as a single note in passing. The frogs and fish in the pond splashed occasionally but were silent otherwise. A dog barked somewhere in the neighborhood. A squirrel scolded me from the fence but gave up when I didn't argue back.
The light faded completely and I picked up my book and said goodnight to the wide world of my garden.