No reason to walk around except for the pleasure of walking around. And seeing new things. And old things with new light. And people out on a beautiful late Fall, late afternoon. And not bitching about being too busy to have fun.

 

It was 3 in the afternoon. I'd written a blog earlier. I'd watched a new hard drive mirror the previously most recent hard drive right up till completion. I took a good look at the stock market trends for the day. I watched Apple stock head back towards its historic high. I tossed some bills into the fireplace. Then I fished them back out because I'd forgotten to stack wood or light a fire. I tossed back a big glass of tap water to wash down that re-heated, leftover pizza I had for lunch. I stood in front of the desk in my other office, in the house, and spent ten minutes going back and forth trying to decide what camera to take with me on a walk through Austin's downtown. I knew from the beginning it would be the M 240 and a 50mm lens but I had to talk myself into it first. After I got organized I hopped into my car and navigated my way into my favorite part of downtown. To my "reserved" parking space across from Treaty Oak, just a block away from the ole Whole Foods flagship store and I started a walk through familiar streets without the aid of a schedule, an agenda, a process or a deadline. All I really knew was that I should be home by 7:30 for dinner with B. And that it was my turn to go by the wine shop and buy a nice bottle of wine that would pair well with a bahn mi bowl filled with fresh veggies, rice and smoked salmon. That's how the walk started. 

I guess it's official. I'm going to do an international project documenting mannequins in major metropolitan centers around the world. But first I have to write a proposal to myself, re-write it a couple times and then create a five year plan on a spread sheet and then.... Oh, who the fuck am I kidding? I'll just as likely decide to hop on a plane and go somewhere when I wake up one morning and look for luck, and the awkward sense of humor of the universe, to show me the good stuff. People plan too hard. People prep too much. I guess it's a wonderfully seductive way to procrastinate and also to run out the clock without having to take much of a chance. 

There seems to be a casual contest happening on Second Street. A race to upgrade the mannequins and increase the turn over of new displays. I stopped into one store to compliment them on replacing old, worn mannequins with brand new ones. They were so pleased. I was the first (only) person to notice and then to say something about it. But the shop keepers deserved it. They've upped their game in a good way. I'll pay more attention to their windows now. Too bad I'm not in their sales target market. 

Seems like art is just about everywhere. You just need to get out of your car or off the bus and walk along and look for it. This was a door inside a small restaurant on East Sixth St. I actually loved the painting. I'd buy that door. If it was for sale. Maybe I should surprise myself and ask next time I'm by. Might be a wonderful addition to my collection of odd art. 

I walked for miles and then turned around and started walking back West. My goal was to hit Mañana Coffee, have a latté on their comfortable patio, watch the runners come cascading across the pedestrian bridge towards me and then watch the sunset. But to get there I had to walk past the big, old power station building (photo just below). And I got there just as the light started getting wonderful. Cinematic. Glorious. Soft. Happy. And welcoming. 

I snapped a bunch of images and worked to underexpose enough so that I'd have some detail in the sky. I loved the shot and when I got back to the office, after dinner, and the finalé of The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel on Prime, I played with the file a bit. The trees were almost black but I had nice detail in the sky. I used some shadow recovery to get detail and color back into the trees, created a mask layer to separate out the sky --- which I darkened a bit, brought up the blue and the saturation. Made a few final adjustments and then applied Lightroom's powerful DeNoise option to kill the noise that's a result of an older sensor, low light and a pushed up raft of shadow areas. Works well. I'm actually a bit in love with the image and the one just below it because they just scream "dusk" and remind me of the time I was closing up the advertising office in the Fall and Winter evenings so many years ago and would stop and gawk at some incredible skies.

The painfully young people working at the coffee shop always seem a bit surprised and baffled to see customers with white hair. It's a young person's city. Especially downtown and on the running trails. Maybe I should dye my hair gray. How sad would that be? At any rate they recovered, were able to process my transaction and even produce a wonderful coffee. I sat out on the patio as the last of the sunlight exited stage West, with a flourish and couples walked by in running clothes, with cute dogs, on leashes. It was a wonderful time to be out and to feel the hopefulness of ordinary people doing ordinary things. While I sat at a small table with a paper cup of steamed milk mixed with coffee and enjoyed breathing in the fresh air. Wonderful. 

I looked at my watch and saw that it was time to head home. I took the unofficial path back to my car. That's the path that goes behind a big parking garage and then across the railroad tracks. I've heard so many warnings about trains and train tracks. But just to be bad and take chances I put earplugs in my ears, blindfolded myself with a Leica promotional kerchief and tried "feeling" my way across multiple train tracks. I emerged unscathed. It's a wonder. Since it's the busiest rail line in Austin. (Didn't really happen that way. No blindfold. No earplugs. Calm down.)

Having successfully gotten over the tracks I took off the blindfold and extracted the earplugs and ambled down the road and through the pedestrian "protection" tunnel just above. I drove up to our house just in time to wash my hands, put my jacket in the closet in the guest bedroom (where my overflow of winter coats lives), open a bottle of Bordeaux Superior and join Ms. B. for a lovely dinner.

Say what you will about old sensors and old cameras but I find them charming. And I like walks. And I dislike the idea that we should all be busy all of the time. 

It's 11. I'm calling it a night and heading into bed. They aren't going to delay swim practice in the morning just for me. And I sure don't want to miss it.