Blogging about London (and especially Manfred's comment) got me thinking again, how would we see our own town if we were visitors instead of residents?
Photographing or sketching an overly familiar place makes you see it anew. So I took my camera to the Lake of the Isles yesterday, for another Twin Cities photo outing. I live about a mile from the lake (it's inner city) and have walked or biked around it a thousand times, at least.
First, I went to the Uptown YWCA, for body pump class.
Then I got on my bike...
ABOVE: This is a tidy-minded part of the country, and the bike path around the lake comes with instructions. Fellow citizens will chide you if you don't obey them. (I was shocked and delighted when I first went to Italy and saw people happily going every which way on park paths.)
ABOVE: Topographical copper map mounted (in 1936?) on a granite boulder, with maple helicopter seed.
ABOVE: Bridge over channel from Cedar Lake, one of the chain of lakes of which Lake of the Isles is part.
ABOVE: Paddles stored in a canoe, upside-down on a canoe-storage rack.
ABOVE: Near the canoe rack, this Sheltie was crying for his tennis ball, floating about 10 feet out in the water. His owner, sitting on the dock, told me the dog was afraid to swim. So I took off my jeans and waded into the hip-high water to retrieve it. (I don't know why the woman didn't go get it herself, but she was happy I did.)
ABOVE: Maybe she was afraid of running into a Northern pike. They have teeth, you know.
Since I was already damp, I waded into the mucky-bottomed, algae-thick part of the lake, where water lilies grow. I'd never have been willing, if I hadn't been on a blog mission.
ABOVE: Afterward, I stopped at Isles Bun and Co., for a San Pellegrino aranciata (bitter orange pop).
It was 2:47 p.m., CST.