bellevue

I dare say it's a little cooler today — hooray. On my way up to Bellevue for a cup of (iced) coffee, I was thinking I've rarely been so pleased to see clouds. Or fog. Or whatever it is. For once, I hope it doesn't burn-off.

I was also thinking about something I miss: the Wednesday evening concerts at the Art Museum. They used to be every Wednesday — there was one last Wednesday — but there wasn't one last night. Instead, there was a dance floor. I checked it out from between the hydrangea bushes, which were looking rather sunburned (burned-out??), very different from last week, when I stood in the same spot listening to the music.

There must be an event at the Art Museum this weekend ...

So many events!! The tennis tournament is ongoing; I spied some players walking along Bellevue yesterday following their matches. I can't imagine playing tennis, let alone competitive tennis, let alone competitive tennis before a significant crowd ... not yesterday (hot), or the day before yesterday (hotter), or any day for that matter.

Then I spied a young man — one of Darling Daughter's former classmates, actually — dressed up as a tennis ball, waving and dancing (to his own music) as traffic passed him by.

Sadly (to my mind), too many visitors miss the Tennis Hall of Fame. They pass right by without considering it a major attraction ... but it's the most amazing structure!! And the museum is way cool, too. Okay, Newport has many structures — and a number of museums — but I'm frequently struck by the intensity of detail and workmanship at the Casino. "They just don't build 'em like they used to, " one could say. Or think, as that's what I was thinking as I peered up at the façade, then in from the shadows, then back outside in the bright, hot world where I stood amid the bustle (and traffic) considering the variety of vehicles one might use to get there ... wherever "there" is.

cool

Wouldn't it be great if thinking cool thoughts helped one to stay cool?? It works to a certain extent, i.e., thinking about ice cream or slurping an icy Del's does makes me feel cool ... a little ... for a second ... until reality (triple-digit reality) seeps back in.

What other thoughts to keep cool??

Swimming at Mackerel Cove maybe??

Splashing at Gooseberry Beach maybe??

Watching boats ghost by at Castle Hill maybe??

No, that vast green lawn is pretty hot. It'd be cooler to be aboard the boats passing by ...

I know: SNOW!! I can sit right here without moving a muscle (another way to stay cool) and think about snow. And how different everything looks in snow. And how cool it is to go traipsing about in snow. And how tracks are left in snow ... like the tracks of the rabbits who live in our yard and are utterly comfortable (too comfortable) with our presence. They don't startle; they just keep doing their thing(s). Mr. Betty and I can talk to them, do talk to them, as we all recline — chill?? — in the shade. These bunnies don't run away even when we mow the lawn. We could run right over them. (Are they deaf??)

But, wait, now I'm back to a hot lawn; mowing the lawn is certainly a hot thought. I need to get back to cool thoughts — like waves.

Waves rolling in at First Beach maybe??

Without seaweed preferably??

Which reminds me (now that I've ventured mentally to First Beach, just past the Cliff Walk, without budging from my chair): I got a nice note from someone at Webster Bank who asked me to mention that there will be free ice cream handed out from their "Treats Truck" at the Cliff Walk this Saturday, July 10, from 12 to 2:30 p.m.

Now that's cool ...

Yes, that's the wave statue (with feet buried).

heat

Sometimes the snapshots you (or I) fail to capture turn out to be more interesting than the ones that go off without a hitch, i.e. swimmingly. Or maybe that's the heat talking — hence the reference to swimming. Or maybe that's the rationalization I offered myself on Sunday night when it became all-too-clear, all-too-quickly, that I was ill-equipped and/or insufficiently knowledgeable to capture night-time images involving Fourth of July fireworks over Fort Adams and Narragansett Bay.

There's something pretty magical about being out there at the moment the lights go on — the lights on the Pell Bridge, that is, as well as the masthead lights and running lights on vessels all around as everyone waits, waits, waits in an expectant hush (despite idling engines) for the show to begin.

It was a perfect night for fireworks: no wind, no current — balmy, one could say, though there's a fine line between balmy and hot (now it's hot). I have no memory of specific fireworks (do we ever??), except there were some good ones, big ones, loud ones, even whistling ones. And it's all about the finale. I have images — lots — but, back to the original premise, I'm partial to the ones where my timing was off, as they freeze-frame a moment that wasn't intended to be preserved. Something meant to be missed (what a concept). I'm also partial to the ones where unexpected features glowed BRIGHT WHITE in the flash — like buoy #1 at the mouth of the harbor. And, later, that guy driving along America's Cup in his crazily patriotic car. I'd seen it/him around all weekend. I believe he dresses in a leotard and does a balancing act or some such thing involving a bizarre-looking contraption on the roof. When parked, of course. Though, at this particular instant, he was inching along in the post-fireworks traffic.

So as I stood there on the sidewalk with my lens aimed straight at this stranger behind the wheel of his red-and-white-striped vehicle emblazoned with all manner of glow-in-the-dark tape and stars-for-hubcaps and supportnonsense.com spelled out clearly along the roofline, he pulled out a camera, pointed it my way, and took a picture of ... wait, I guess the joke's on me.

If you click on the photo (above), you can see Mr. Nonsense within.



But nonsense (and fireworks and heat waves) aside, there's that other side to the Fourth of July ...

stripes

No, I'm not at the Bristol Fourth of July Parade. I can't imagine how hot it is there today (temperature-wise). But I did pass back & forth through Bristol twice in the past few days on my way to Grandma Betty's house. (Big news, I know — woo woo!!) I always emerge, for a second anyway, from whatever thought process or depressing news feature or song on the radio is occupying my brain when I see those lines in the middle of the road switch from yellow to red-white-and-blue.

But they're so tired and faded!! That's what I was thinking about the lines on Thursday (unless it was Friday), as I drove past all the well-tended architecture and history in Bristol ... slightly sleepier than Newport in that wonderfully genuinely unmistakably Bristol-ish way.

Today, however — and I say this with certainty, without even being there, based upon past experience — Bristol is not sleepy. When I drove through the second time, on Saturday, stages were being set-up in front yards. Campers were parking in church parking lots. Flags of every size and variety were being raised and hung and poked everywhere. Bristol was getting ready. At this very moment, it's packed. And hot ...

Which brings me to yesterday in Newport: the Fourth of July festivities included a comparatively modest (very modest) parade, The People's Parade. A group resurrected the parade route of 1810 and invited anyone/everyone to retrace those steps. So I walked from Long Wharf to Washington Square behind what looked to be a single (i.e. one) high-school age drummer followed by a trio of pirates then a hundred-or-so walkers with a couple of scooters bringing up the rear. Oddly enough, the woman on the scooter reminded me of another woman on a scooter I'd seen a week or two ago; click here and scroll down to see what I mean (hint: look at her left leg).

There was much more to the day — including a walk (a hot one) to the Farewell Street Cemetery wherein lies buried a signer of the Declaration of Independence, a reading of the Declaration in the very spot on the steps of the Colony House where it was read way-back-when, a deafening firing of cannons (at least one of which was forged by Paul Revere) by the Newport Artillery Company. Maybe I'll talk about all that tomorrow ... or not, as it's important to move on to today, being the start of the Campbell's Hall-of-Fame tennis tournament, kind of a big deal, as it's the only professional grass-court tournament in North America, or something like that.

At the very least, I'll say (about yesterday): there were so many stripes!! But none more striking than those of the little boy leaning over the water at Long Wharf — to see what?? — while his dad paid no attention whatsoever and I was tempted to reach over and pull those striped drawers back to safety myself. Or maybe the little girl marching along a very faded yellow line in the middle of the street waving her own little flag.

Speaking of which, on my second trip back through Bristol, the day before The Big Parade, I learned something I didn't know, or had failed to notice 'til now, and it's important: every year, they refresh the stripes ...

thread

The thread of yesterday (for me) had little to do with the America's Cup ... though I did stroll down the hill to see it. Very impressive!!

It had little to do with the Colonial soldier (a Red Coat??) standing guard ... though I did see him again later at Fort Adams eating potato chips.

Little to do with the pirates milling about ... though I was rather impressed by their whips and cats-o-nine-tails, to which they referred euphemistically as "motivational devices."

Little to do with speeches I overheard from outside the VIP tent ... where I lay on the grass beside my bicycle looking up at the blue-but-increasingly-cloudy sky. (Clouds make things much more interesting, don't they??)

The thread of yesterday had everything to do with all the kids whizzing through the harbor in Optimists and 420s, paying no heed to any of it — let alone two-time Cup defender Intrepid passing behind them — as they were focused on winning their own races.

And everything to do with the triple-tailed kite circling playfully overhead. The guy pulling the strings occasionally (deliberately??) dipped and dragged the tails near the ground, much to the kids' and onlookers' delight ...

(Click on any scene to enlarge ...)

priorities

Lots to do;

nothing to say.

Busy day —

it's Cup Day!!

From the wharf

to Fort Adams ...

and beyond??