The clouds moved away just as the hail finished up, and we had a brisk clear afternoon.
There were a couple of dogs waiting outside Vivace for their owners to come out with their coffee. They were a distraction, I slowed down while I was walking by, causing a little congestion in the foot traffic around me. I shook off the dogs’ influence and walked on toward the corner, noticing a neighbor just as we passed each other headed in opposite directions. She caught my aborted wave with her peripheral vision and we turned a little to nod an awkward hello.
The way the flag is hung at the post office on the corner, it kind of flies adjacent to its flagpole rather than on its flagpole.
Down on Denny, I tried to get a photo of a bird bathing in a puddle. It jumped into a tree and flexed it’s feathers to shake off some loose drops of water. (Also, at the same time that it was drying itself, it pooped a little.) The bird was nervous of my attention and it skipped away to a farther branch, where it opened its beak and made a chirpy Meow. If I were to personify the birds behavior after that, I would say that it seemed a bit embarrassed. It waited on the branch for a moment and considered something, before flying away, retreating completely.
Police had put up a set of barriers at Westlake Center to keep any demonstrations contained. There was a group quietly pacing short and tight single-file circles around the little arch. There were no anti-war protesters, aside from the tall man leering at the demonstrators. He had a grimy old flag wrapped around his waste as a skirt. Police, some in riot gear and others wearing bicycle getups, were hanging off toward the side. The policemen’s bicycles were all parked along the open end of the fenced in area, as a porous fourth wall. The one closest to the fence fell over when I walked past it.
I ran into my neighbor again across from Pike Place Market, we stopped at the same corner at the same time.
There was a broken window, patched with cardboard, at the classy little hat store. I took a few photos and a woman (wearing a hat) came out and asked, “Anything specific you’re taking a picture of.” “The broken window.” “Just for fun?” I didn’t really have an answer. “. . . I’m wondering if you know something about it?” Okay, time for me to go.