There is a joy to riding in Spring rain.

Most of us have forgotten that joy.

The joy we felt jumping with our boots in puddles of water,

of watching the water splash,

of getting wet.

Riding watching the water sprays.

Riding on a path,

I plan my way through the shallowest parts of puddles.

My coat keeps my core dry,

but my legs are soaked.

On roads, try to time the puddles with the cars,

to avoid the worst drenchings from tires and puddles.

Familiar landscapes, change in the rain.

I avoid regular routes to ride on routes less traveled.

Later, home, long after the ride,

I take the sweat shirt worn under the coat during the ride,

from the warm radiator, where it sat to dry,

putting it back on, the sleeves are still wet.

And I remember puddles and rains

from thousands of rains.

And I know I am alive,

and that a good days work is done.

When I was young, we did not have the internet. The only net we had was for actual fishing, and not for phishing.  The only mobile phone, was the one with a cord long enough so that maybe you could talk around the corner, while all you siblings were purposely “NOT” listening.  A speed date, was one were her father took one look at you and said “No” and closed the door on your face.  Of course, once you got home, you were free to wander the woods, fields, and streams, and you internal clock told you when to get back for dinner.  Hanging out with friends, may indeed mean climbing and hanging from trees, swing sets, or any other thing worth playing on.  We did not go on “play dates” although we did play with playdough.  It wasn’t as bad as It may make it seem.  We did after all play rock, papers, and scissors.  I know because I still have the scars to prove it.

“Peter”, Alice asked, “Where are we?”  Peter looked around they clearly were not in Never Land.  “I don’t know” he answered.  Alice looked around more, “I don’t know either.”  Peter said “The fog makes it hard to see where we are.”  “And”, Alice added “to see where we are not.”

It can be difficult to believe that this was taken in the heart of a good size American city.

1/22/17

© words and pictures by Dan DeMarle 2017

What makes art? Is it the light that shines on the art, or is it the light itself?

12/4/16

© words and pictures by Dan DeMarle 2016

The Edgerton Model Train Room  has been a Rochester Institution for over 50 years. Open rarely, when it is open bring the kids or grand kids and go visit it.  Click here to see a one minute video of this section of the track. Listen carefully and you can hear chickens in the background.

12/30/16

© words and pictures by Dan DeMarle 2016

Joelle was rushing to make the bus to take her to work. She had a major presentation today, and had worked all night on it. She was tired but had packed up her laptop and was running. She hated her job, but needed it to pay the bills.  When was the last time she had a day off, when’s the last time she had been on a date.  As she rushed by she saw the flowers blooming over the sidewalk.  She stopped and bent down.  They reminded her of the flowers on the beachfront when she was 8. All those summers ago.

© words and picture by Dan DeMarle 2017

Jack knew the water sprite was somewhere near.  He had once thought he had seen her in the distance in the stream in the lower field.  He had heard from some of the villagers that if you could hunt her down, she would grant you a wish.  He wasn’t sure if that was true, but he was a young man and the idea of seeing a naked female sprite was too much for him to not go try and find her.   After walking up the stream he came to some old ruins he had not known were there. He thought he should turn around, naked sprite or not. He was just turning, to head back, when he heard a definite giggle.   He turned and …..

3/25/17 – Early spring along the Genesee Valley Canal Trail  near Nunda NY

© words and pictures by Dan DeMarle 2017

Just listened to some commentators discuss the latest on the North Carolina bathroom bill.  The one that requires transgender people to use the bathroom associated with the gender listed on their birth certificate.  It was ‘repealed’ but no-one is happy with the repeal because it was essentially just swapping a few words but leaving the intent of the law the same.

Besides the law,  why am I so disgusted? It was the realization that the arguments made by the conservative commentator were the exact same arguments made to keep blacks out of white bathrooms.  While clearly the rationale side argues this is an issue of civil rights, the conservative commentator argued it was about the rights of essentially straight people to not have those others in the same bathroom with them.  Which rhymes with “I don’t want black people using my bathroom.”  So if you have been on the fence about this issue, don’t be.  White only bathrooms, is what the North Carolina legislature wants.  They lost that battle, however, so now they are fighting against the LGBQT community.  All to keep their white women safe. Disgusting!

Findings at Estate Sales.

Part of my Americana series.

12/4/16

© Words and picture by Dan DeMarle 2016

Across the field, in the distance lay his house,  and barn. There was much to be done, cows to milk, an engine to be fixed, soon the maple syrup would start to flow.  He stood and looked across this land.  He breathed the air. He thought of her, somewhere in that city apartment of hers. Probably sitting reading with her tea and her cat. Was she thinking of him?

2/1/17

© words and pictures by Dan DeMarle 2017