Lake Cheston ABCedarian: V

V is for VIBRANT

sun broke four days of fog and sleet and freezing fog

and blue water met wet sand and stone

and where ice still coated the lake's surface

stars burst on bluebird song

Just 44 Steps

one way between beach bench and garbage can (see red arrow).

Five beer cans, three bottle rocket packages, eight bottle rocket sticks and three trips for a total of 308 steps there and back.

I know the number because I counted as I cleared someone else's junk before two young girls and their parents came to swim.

Sometimes I pick up the trash, but I confess that even I don't remove everything. Yesterday, for example, I left the used condom in place at the edge of the parking lot.

Happily, the Odonates don't seem to mind (even if I do).

Of Sliders and ***t

I.
Two days in the 60s, with full sun, and all kinds come out to play. 

II.
Watching this slider at the lake this morning, I thought, I know just how he (or she) feels. How good it is to stretch the neck, nose up toward the blue sky, eyes at half mast, letting the good heat soothe winter meat.

III.
The riders and their mounts had been out, too, though earlier than I. They left their calling cards: piles of excrement on the beach and the bank opposite, hoof marks gouged into red mud and damp sand. 

These sun-worshipers I do not understand. Oh, riding I get, and riding in beautiful weather I get. But why they think only of themselves by coming where they are not welcome (indeed where they are not permitted) and leaving their ***t for others to cope with and clean up is beyond me.

IV.
When it comes to sliders and riders who slide on their responsibilities, I'll take the first any day. He or she is my kind of animal.