IWALLK: A Living Magazine - Day 91 - The Day of Charity and Meeting Jeremy

It was a familiar surrounding that I found myself in when I awoke. I'd been in this sleeping place (the second one I'd found, out of four) many times now. I was much more aware of how open it was though, and went back to my early morning ritual of waking at 6:00 am, since at any time a jogger could go by or someone walking a dog.

Pack up was fast without a tarp. My pack felt heavier in a way, because the now-missing tarp had filled out the back part, and lifted the weight from sagging. I needed to adjust it at some point. I had not been downtown the way I went on this day before, at this time of the morning (sunrise)...

There is a tiny spot on the water that reflects the sun

into these windows. It was glittering everything behind me

with golden, shifting light (not seen).

Dew on the grass.

These were laid out by Chinese workers, to direct

people away from the Chinese Lantern Festival construction site.

This planter area is cool. I spent time eating my lunch here one time and didn't notice for about 20 minutes that there was a gardener in the planter tending the many plants, right behind me...

Ornamental grass tips.

I still had geometry on the mind...

I wanted to see if people respected the recyclables from the trash, and was impressed...

Apparently these little cones are tasty to chickadees, as we'll soon see.

Being pretty ignorant about the schedule of events in the park, I suddenly realized that three charity events were being held on this Saturday. Here is one...

Now, I'm going to relate an uncomfortable story, but one that - in all fairness - should be told. There is very much that I don't talk about in this blog. It is primarily a PG-13 rating. Kids will have already have a rudimentary knowledge about such subjects as sex, drugs and swearing if they are interested in this Living Magazine. But there is much - very much - that is simply R and X rated that happens, also terrible things that I would not want a sensitive person to be shocked by, along with things that would throw off the the momentum of a blog post. I'm trying to think of a way to share these experiences without the information being leaked--like a subscription blog of some kind, with a vow of confidentiality...or something? More on that later.

This is not R or X, but personally uncomfortable. Usually I would leave it out, but today I'm going to include it...

When I stumbled across this group, supporting "suicide prevention" I was taken a bit off guard. A woman came rushing up to me and asked me if I was walking that day. I said, "Yes, around the park taking pictures." Then I got the message that this event was a "Walk!"

She asked if I had ever been affected by suicide in my life. I didn't really feel like talking about the subject, but I told her that I had been affected and had brushes with the idea myself in the past. She looked very kind and devoted to what she was doing. Then she stepped up close to me and cradled the three necklaces she wore around her neck and over her "Out of the Darkness" t-shirt.

"This one is for my father." She looked for my reaction, and I had none to give. She held the next one up. "This one is for my brother." Then came the next. "This is for my son..."

I said, "I'm very sorry for your losses."

She thanked me, and asked if I wanted to register, "...it's free?"

I didn't really know what I was registering for, emails, or the Walk!. I wasn't really in the mood for finding out. I just wanted to keep taking pictures. I told her that I had some work still to do that day, but I'd keep it in mind. Or, at least that's what I should have told her. Instead, I said, "I'm all set for now."

She looked disappointed and slowly walked back to the table, which was decorated with green and blue balloons. And, I continued down the trail, feeling guilty that I had missed an opportunity to share what this group is doing for people. I don't know why I chickened out. Well, maybe I do. It doesn't matter. I guess the subject just cuts a little too closely for me. For this brief bout of cowardice, I beg the reader's forgiveness. Still, it kept me from going back this day.

But charities were popping out all over the place...

I retreated back to my comfortable task of snapping pictures. Geometry, surfaces, textures... They were all so much more real...

And you think your air conditioner makes condensation?

This one never stops gushing. It is one of three that treat

the air in the Riverfront Amusement Park.

Plants always have a spot in my lens...

Damage to the IMAXX Theater.

Here is their info again.

Then there was the Stomp Out Abuse 5K Run and Walk. With this extremely talented, sightless keyboardist and singer; banging out the classic rock hits, as runners and walkers crossed the finish line...

I love the drops of dew on these tiny white flowers.

Bought a few too many t-shirts. Check Goodwill in a few weeks,

I'll bet you'll find some no matter where you live in the country.

I like this shot. I call it "Leaf Gradient".

As I passed by the booths of the other charity event, "The Mexican Fiesta - Celebrating Our Culture", I saw the most bold and resourceful chickadee I'd ever see. He flew up and hovered for a moment right in front of me, completely unfazed by my presence. He then swung himself upside down and began munching on the tiny pine cones I mentioned above...

I love chickadees, their songs, their colors, their dispositions, and they are Maine's State Bird. It's very nostalgic to see so many around Spokane.

As in many cities, it is the Rotary Club that provides the big bucks (along with downtown banks) to build such things as fountains and parks...

Reflections...

A call out to Ellen.

Scratched steel.

Along my circuit, an in line with the Mexican Fiesta was a stage where they were giving Latin dance lessons. I sat down and watched...

This beautiful girl in the orange could REALLY dance. I couldn't keep my eyes off of her.

It was time to hit the library--metaphorically speaking. I headed out of the park and back to the concrete...

It occurred to me that the city is very much like a giant roofless building--a giant mansion, in and of itself. The grass is like carpeting, the benches like furniture, bathrooms, dining rooms (pick your favorite food!), stairways, makeshift spaces to sleep. And even house plants...

I worked until the very last second at the library, when I apologized for being the last one out. The post was published but not shared yet. When I sat down on a ledge to continue my piggy backing on the library Wi-Fi, a guy walked up and asked me for a light. I had one, and we talked.

My new friend, Jeremy.

We really had a meeting of the minds. He was very articulate and obviously intelligent. He was going through a personal temporary-made-permanent-by-being-homeless health issue, which was frustrating to hear.

It was easy for us to commiserate about the things we go through out here. I told him my precious tarp was stolen the day before. He told me he's had 6 tarps stolen. And, he'll even see people around town using them. He says nothing.

Jeremy has also gone through one hell of a wringer in his personal life, having been on the street now since March of 2014, after beginning a career as an Addiction Counselor. But the story isn't a happy one. He is still "clean" but was screwed over, both admittedly by himself and some women in his life.

I asked him how old he was. He said he was 37. He'd been married and had an 18 year old daughter who, just that day, left town to attend college in Olympia. He was planning to go with her, but funding issues and another living arrangement he has got in the way.

We both walked together talking until we parted at Riverfront. He has been sleeping in an area where a fence has been ripped open (not by him). He received a very angry note from the land owner or manager and has to (everybody sing!) "move it along"...

I told him about the Latah Creek area. He'd never even heard of it, and was himself a Spokane native. In this last year, he'd always slept in closer to the city, like everyone else. But he complained bitterly about how "rude some of the other street people can be, stealing your stuff while you sleep." I told him that natural places were never more than about 3 miles from the center of any town or city, and that he might find a better place down by the creek. He seemed genuinely interested, but had to get back to his other place.

I hope to see him again soon. And, I have a feeling I will. If I do, I will talk him into an interview, and publish my very first podcast.

Alas, I was back on my way to the creek...