Flutter by, Butterfly

Always rambling, always exploring, I am and I am not a creature of habit. If I do not work, and I have not worked much lately, I go for a long, early morning walk. That is the habitual part.

But walking the same trail, the same route each day, no, I like a constant variety and thankfully the good souls who have preserved our nature hereabouts have provided it.

Besides the several fine and handsome parks surrounding my neck of the woods, these parks are festooned with many trails. Not only do I take a different path each day, I look for ones I've missed before and go exploring. Sometimes they prove short or dead end and I can only turn around and go back as I came, but most present new scenery and often surprises. Sometimes the surprise is I don't know my way back to where I started and am lost for a bit. I don't mind, it is interesting being lost as long as you know ways of eventually de-losing yourself.

At any rate, I turned off on to a road less traveled yesterday. It was a totally random choice this time. I was searching for something. (I will probably make this search a Frank March Adventure if I ever find the object of my desire.)  I am looking for an elusive waterfall. I had a conversation with a bicyclist I met after I had climbed hills and forded streams and had returned to a main trail unsuccessful. I asked if he knew where the waterfall was. He didn't. He didn't know there was a waterfall and thought with our dry weather it might not exist at the moment. His assumption was this mysterious waterfall only appeared after heavy rains or only at some magical time like Brigadoon.

Perhaps, but I think not. There is on the Internet at the Woodlawn website a trail map, and it indicates a waterfall up in one corner of this acreage, right over the state border I suspect. I just don't think I've walked down the right route yet or far enough.

Once a month I get together with a group of poets and we share our poetry. The latest meeting was this past Thursday and a story that was told became my catalyst to once again search for the waterfall on Friday morning. My friend and fellow poet, Dallas (pictured left), had a motorcycle accident this past week. It left him with a broken hand and broken rib. He can't work (he drives a bus) and he can't do his daily bike ride or his martial arts exercises either. This forced inability led to a story mentioning the waterfall, although it was peripheral to the tale.

The story: Dallas had gone on his regular bike ride up into the Woodlawn forest, when he came to a waterfall. Here was a nice open space beside a pond. He parked his bike and spend some time doing his martial arts exercises. It was a very hot day and that pond looked more and more inviting as he finished up his forms. Yes, it looked very enticing and there was no one around, he had been quite alone all day, he striped off to skin and dove into the water. It was very refreshing and he splashed there enjoying this cooling bath when he heard voices. A group of children suddenly appeared marching toward the spot, so he sunk himself down into the pond up to his chin. Some waved, some spoke to him and he said "hi" back. As this group settled upon the bank their teacher came from behind and began pointing and explaining things surrounding (presumably this did not include the head bobbing in the pond). Finally, the lecture finished, they waved goodbye and were gone. He, with relief and wrinkled skin, climbed ashore, quickly dressed and got out of there.

So I thought, there is definitely a waterfall somewhere out there and the next morning I set off again to find it.

I also thought isn't this always the way. When you think you are alone and safe along comes someone to embarrass you. It was just like my telling about removing my shirt in this heat while on what was to me a very unused trail. I almost never met anyone on in that place, but this time along comes a lady and her dogs. At least I had only removed my shirt.

Thus it was I wandered in a whole lot of new territory yesterday morning without finding my waterfall. I came to a choice far up on a mount after walking long. Perhaps the path going to my right would have led me to my goal, but I had been hiking long and the day was heating up, so I went left.

This took me up a narrow path I had also never been on before. It ran along the very top of the ridge and there was a fence along one side, probably electrified, for it only had three well-spaced strands of thick cable on white plastic knobs.  There was a cornfield along where I first came, then later I could see a road across a meadow. Meanwhile, the path grew very narrow and all around were high brush, especially cockleburs.

This is where I saw them, a flutter of yellow here and there. There were butterflies in packs flitting from plant to plant and then around my head. It was a marvelous place to be. Cicada were singing in the nearby woods and these beautiful, colorful creatures leading me along. It was an enchanting moment of beauty and peace.

I pulled out my camera and began filming, following their flight, and at times they seemed to pose for their close-up.

Not just the yellow ones, but these darker flies of black and blue and silver.

I do not know butterfly types. When you encounter large yellow ones with black trim you always think Monarch, but I am not sure the markings were right and there are yellow butterflies that mimic the Monarch. The dark one on the left seems to be some kind of swallowtail. There was one that when sitting still spread its wings forming almost a star that looked metallic. You can see that one near the end of my little two minute film below.

By the way, did you know they tag butterflies out of the nature center in Brandywine Creek State Park. Imagine catching and tagging these delicate looking creatures. You do it gently, a tiny sticker on the wing that doesn't harm or hinder the butterfly. They catch them, take them to the center, feed them, tag them and led them loose. This way they can trace the migrations of the insect.

 

Invasion of the Basketball Snatchers

Naturally the newspaper article caught my eye. Anytime you see your community blasted publicly on wide foolscap in black type you take notice. Especially when this quiet little concave is being besmirched and they are naming names and even the names named are adding to the inaccuracies.


Almost immediately I took exception to the deception, not just by the reporter too lazy to get locations correctly placed, but to the unfairness of everyone else involved in the tale, the squealer, the self-justifying accused and the weak-kneed actions of the state government.

THE GREAT AND TERRIBLE DAY OF THE NETS

In the fading days of summer, a self-proclaimed Paul Revere rode forth sounding the alarm that the nets were coming. Actually the nets were already here and long entrenched and this Paul Revere remains shrouded in anonymity. A reporter duly reported that some patriot had ratted out several families loyal to the nets. These miscreants lived along the roads less-travelled where they openly engaged in a heinous crime. They had participated in installing basketball hoops upon the grass plot between sidewalk and street. The Grass Plot Protection Police swooped down upon these erstwhile public enemies and said, "Either you nyet the nets or we will and we will bill." The criminally accused cried fowl, claiming martyrdom for involvement with a long treasured and vested practice as American as -- well, as basketball. Tearing down the nets would dishonor the memories of generations of hoopsters and deprive their kids of needed exercise. The reporter further parroted their claim that the community was a concrete jungle lacking open space for play and air to breathe. With a lump in the throat it was said the deprived children would be denied any opportunity to develop proper muscle tone, condemned forever to dark rooms of video games and texting thumbs. The state noted that nets in such locations prevented  more people from parking their cars conveniently upon sidewalks and presented a risk to those who tried. 


The whole thing revolved about breaking a state ordinance called the Clear Zone Law,  "which prohibits hoops, trees, shrubs and other objects from being within seven feet of the pavement's edge in subdivisions."    

QUESTIONS THE WORLD WISHES TO HAVE ANSWERED IN THE FACE OF CRISIS

First of all, does this ordinance really specifically lists hoops? 


I don't know.


Is the accusation false? Did the accuser tell a fib? Did the state have no right to take the action taken? Is there no open space for children to play in this place? Was the reporter totally correct in naming the community named?


The answer to all these is, "No".


These basketball nets do exist in the grass plots between sidewalk and curb, but does this present a clear and present danger to the public? A citizen has the right, some would say the responsibility, to report criminal behavior out of concern for the community, but was that the Whistle Blower's real motive? The state certainly wasn't derelict in their enforcement of the law or were they?


Oops, we seemed to have ended up with more questions instead of answers.

THE REPORTER

Let's begin with the newspaper story. The reporter placed all horrid net nonsense in one particular development, but why?  Of the three streets involved only one is in the development named and it is a small dead end avenue at the very edge. Why wasn't the reporter's focus more on the unnamed development next door where the two longer through-traffic streets are located? He could have at least named both communities. He did note these nets "are common in older suburban neighborhoods across northern Delaware". I have visions of the late Kevin McCarthy running down our street yelling, "They're everywhere! They're everywhere!"


But the concentration on the lesser offending community might have a founding in whom filed the complaint.

THE COMPLAINANT

Why did the Complainant pick these particular three streets anyway? I apologize for repeating myself, but there are grass plots full of basketball nets throughout the communities around here, not just in the community named or the one next to it.  Most of these many nets are on much more well-traveled streets than the three named. The concentration on one development and the involvement of those three streets may be clues to the Complainant's location and motive.


Here is my totally opinionated, just-guessing scenario, so don't anyone take it for Gospel. We aren't writing God-inspired scripture here; we're just taking a rag-tag ride on my wild imagination.


My wild imagination imagines the Complainant lives on that little dead end street in the reporter's named community, probably next to or near a neighbor committing the high crime of basketball net in the grass plot. My wild imagination also imagines there isn't so much as a lick of concern about children or driver safety as there is annoyance with the noise of kids playing nearby, especially by the thump-thump-thump of a ball on macadam.     




Now there is no question that thump-thump-thump can get annoying after a while as can the shouts and laughter of children, but if you cannot tolerate a reasonable amount of disquietude then do not live in an urban surrounding. Move yourself to the peacefulness of a mountaintop or a cave in the forest primeval where you can pontificate on the meaning of life and the evils of basketball nets. Of course, reasonable amount of noise is a key. No one should be subjected to jarring thump-thumps at indecent hours anymore than the blaring of a boombox turned full volume or the constant barking of a mournful and marooned hound. All should be respectful of others in such matters of noise and when not it is certainly permissible to complain.  (Just a note to those thinking about the peacefulness of the forest primeval, the early morning and late evening hours in the countryside are far from devoid of noise. They may be the noisiest times of the day.)


 Maybe this person was not subjected to unreasonable sounds at unspeakable hours; indeed, had no viable complaint; that is, the children weren't hooligans disturbing the peace. They were just young people being young people disturbing a curmudgeon being a curmudgeon. And what is a curmudgeon to do to rid oneself of normality?

How about accusing the neighbor of harboring a criminal basketball net on the grass plot.


One must be careful, though, for being too specific may result in a neighbor-to-neighbor feud. It could become uncomfortable if the neighbor guessed who was behind the complaint. It would be difficult to hide behind that kids-playing-in-traffic argument. After all, there is little danger on this street of a kid being hit by a car while so engaged. (If you look at this overhead of the street you may understand why this is so, especially remembering the street dead-ends around the curve. You can even see the basketball net from high in the sky and that it faces a big loop off of the main drive. It also shows some long driveways, too. Remember that for driveways will come up again later.)


So the Complainant simply resorts to the anonymous, but concerned citizen ploy and provides the names of several others involved in the nefarious scheme to overrun grass plots with basketball nets. This protects the Complainant's identity and makes the complaint a simple civic duty.


Why do I speculate the Complainant lives on the dead-end street?


First, that would explain why the newspaper reporter referred only to the one community, the community with the dead end street, the one the complaint came from. If the complaint had originated from one of the other two streets, then that community would have been making the headlines.

Second, the two other streets cited in the complaint would be the normal route someone living on the dead end street would use to get out to the main roads to go to the mall or to work. This would make it easy in the daily swing of things to note the invading army of nets along this singular route. If all of this was true concern for community safety, why not list all such nets, especially those on more dangerous traffic-laden streets. (The photo on the left shows the typical traffic flow on the streets named.)


Also, if the Complainant lived on one of the two through-traffic streets why wouldn't he just circle the block rather than drive down a dead-end street?


Some might say I am a bit severe in my speculation about the motives of the person who filed the complaint. It is just speculations after all. I don't know who the person is or what their true motives are. Why they may just be a concerned citizen as pure as a Michael Jordan drive to the net. Yeah, I'm sure that's it.

THE SINNERS

I'm not defending the Accused netters, either. They aren't necessarily pure as the wind-driven free throw either; in fact, they are a bit disingenuous in their self-proclaimed victimhood. 


They are absolutely correct proudly stating such nets were, "A fixture for street basketball games for two decades." I'd go so far as to say they have been an urban feature a lot longer than twenty years. The length of time these nets have been waving in the breezes of American streets will come up again when we get to the State's action.


The largest self-justification made by the Accused is, "The neighborhood has little open space, so street basketball is the sport of choice." Further argument is made that without these grass plot hoops the children will bloat to gross overweightness or rot away from lack of movement.

Give me a break! What a bunch of double dribbling. 


"What's the game plan, coach?"


"We tell them we gotta play in the street because there ain't no other space in this concrete jungle."


That is an overview on the left of the area in question. Just look at all that paved over space. Why, hardly a glimmer of green is to be seen. Well, you see the glimmer of green below the dead end street to the bottom left? That is the upper edge of a park. You can walk from the back of those homes to that park. Is there a problem with playing basketball in the park? Yes, there is, but when we get to the government's role in all this mishmash we will explain and give a solution. 


I'm all about solutions. 

"In a day and age that they want to get kids moving, why would you take down the basketball hoops?"

That is another quote by the Accused justifying their hoop dreams. In this time of a so-called child obesity epidemic it certainly makes sense to have some vigorous exercise for the kids to indulge in. "It's really the only thing that gets me out of the house and stops me from playing video games," said one of the Accused's children.

Oh really? Hey, parents, you are supposed to be motivators of your kids. Tell the lazy little varmints to lay down the joysticks and go out and move. If they don't, put the video games in the liquor cabinet and lock the door.


Oh, what's that? There's no where to send them out to?


But what is this to our wandering eyes should appear?


Why that almost looks like an overhead shot of a basketball court. Indeed, I do believe it is.


Depending where your home may be in these communities it is a five to fifteen minute walk away. Fifteen, probably, from the Accused and their streets, but wouldn't that get the kids moving?

Take a little walk -- it won't kill you -- and play a little round ball on a court between athletic fields. Doesn't look like this court gets used much, though. There is grass growing up between cracks in the surface. What a waste and a shame.


And no, in case you're thinking this is some abandoned area. That is a brand new playground off there in the back of the field. This is an area behind an elementary school, a public library and a community center. There are baseball diamonds going to seed back here as well. Maybe you could trade in the condemned basketball hoops for some bat and gloves.


But never mind, if walking to playing fields is an exercise too strenuous for the present generation, not all hope is lost. In fact, hope isn't even the word because the reality is that all the houses in these communities where the invasion of the basketball snatchers happened have back yards and driveways (remember those driveways mentioned before). Don't give us this,"no open spaces" malarkey. It not only isn't impossible to provide basketball space without sticking a hoop in the grass plot by the curb, it is done all over these same communities.

The picture at the top was the basketball hoop put up in my backyard. There was plenty of space for hoopla and for the barbeque grill and for the swing set and whatever. When the neighbor next door's boy came of basketball age, he put a hoop up alongside the driveway, the other side neighbor and the guy down the street had a net mounted about their storage shed and garage respectively.  Even as we speak, there are basketball hoops up along drives, well away from traffic and clear of Clear Zone Law violations on the very streets where the Accused live, which is where the one in the photo on the right is. See, it can be done.


Oh, but horrors, it might call for some sacrifice of grass in the backyard or force daddy to move the cars because the kids want to play some Horse. How blasted inconvenient.


Now some may say I switched gears and am being too severe on the Complainees then I was previously on the Complainer. Naw, I'm just being fair and balanced. I'm being equally hard on the lot. I don't think the Complainant had any real reason to complain and I don't think the alleged Sinners have any real defense except one, the law isn't supposed to discriminate.

WHINE OF THE EVIL EMPIRE, THE STATE'S DISCRIMINATORY EDICT

The State said: "the hoops need to be cleared because they're a safety hazard to cars. You don't want anything close to the road's edge where cars could strike them, cause more damage to the car or the car's driver."

Apparently basketball hoops have been leaping into the street or driver's have been driving on the sidewalks. The State did not make clear why these cars and/or the drivers were in a damaged condition, only that the basketball hoops could "cause more damage to the car or the car's driver."

Of course these statements by the State also raise a few other questions. If these hoops are specifically listed as against the law in the Clear Zone Act, why have they been allowed to be erected and standing for decades? If these hoops present an imminent and present danger to cars and their drivers, why have they been allowed to remain for twenty or more years all over the area, county and state? Apparently the agencies of the State either do not see these hoops as a danger and so not worth concerning themselves with or the State is simply derelict in its duty.

And why would the state issue a dictate of removal to only the eight people named by a curmudgeon and not the other dozens of such hoop holders in these two communities? Isn't that discriminatory enforcement?And you can't stop with these two communities, because that would be singling out a set group too. To be honest, fair and uphold the Clear Zone Act (albeit two decades too late), the state must issue an order to every home statewide to remove such basketball hoops.

That isn't the biggest problem, these hoops. No, I would say it is trees. You would have a hard time finding a street in the communities where these basketball hoops stand without finding even more offending trees in the grass plots. See the photo on the right? That is pretty much how every street is around these parts. The Clear Zone Act as quoted clearly says, does it not, that it "prohibits hoops, trees, shrubs and other objects from being within seven feet of the pavement's edge in subdivisions." 

Would not the State have to issue decrees that these hundred and hundreds of trees be removed because they are within seven feet of the curb and present the possibility of damage to cars and car drivers?


What is it with all these cars being driven down the grass plots anyway? Seems to me if you persist in driving off the road to scoot over the grass plots and pavements, then you deserve a little damage to yourself and your vehicle. I also bet all these solid looking trees would inflict far more pain than the relatively less basketball hoops.

But sometimes it is better to let be what be. I don't want to see curmudgeons turning in neighbors right and left because they have a tree in the grass plot or a hoop or they have a lamppost or decorative brick wall or landscaped bush in their yard a few inches into the seven foot clear zone.


But doggone, the state lets these hoops exist for decades and then comes down on a handful of those who have them? Either enforce the laws you make or don't, but don't put the power in the hands of any curmudgeon who might harbor a grudge against a neighbor. 

Now, do I think it is best for kids to be playing in the street? No, I think people have alternatives around about here for placing hoops away from traffic areas, even the less traveled ones. But frankly, these nets on these back side streets haven't been a problem for anyone in at least the last thirty years.

There are hoops that are a problem and should be dealt with post haste, but none of them are on the streets named. These are those portable basketball hoops that some people place in the street. I repeat for clarity, these are not hoops in the grass plots, these are hoops IN THE STREET ITSELF. They are a danger to cars and drivers. I had a near miss with one not long ago myself. I was driving and a car turned into the oncoming lane from a side street, which caught my attention. Then I saw out of the corner of my eye a large black object to my right. It was one of these portable hoops sitting IN THE STREET. These things are especially dangerous at night because they are hard to see. I see no excuse whatsoever for placing such things out on the street itself.

There are also some spots where playing in the street is dangerous. There is one on the grass plot on the main street through these communities. This is a heavily traveled street and the youngsters playing at this hoop are often very slow about moving out of the way of oncoming cars.

If sites are to be cited, then these are the sites to cite.

If the state or county really cared about any of this, then the politicians that run them would see that some basketball nets were in that park behind those houses on the dead end street. This was once the communities property, but a few years back it was sold to the county for one dollar to become a county park. There is a very nice and large playground there now for the little kids. Would it kill the county to put up a couple hoops for the older ones? I mean come on Chris Coons, the county got a pretty nice chunk of land for a dollar, how about giving back a little to the community. 

Anyway, my sympathies don't lie with anyone involved in this sordid tale, accuser, accused, state or reporter. I think they all fowled out and ought to be benched.

Saturday Night's Alright for Fighting

Okay, I admit it, we eat in a lot of bars.

The original reason for this is simple. We wanted to avoid squawky, shrieking infants and undisciplined wandering tots. The odds of avoiding these used to be better if you ate in the bar. The reason was the bar area was normally the designated smoking zone. Generally those bringing young children to sup avoided the cigar-cigarette crowd.

This all changed with the passing of smoking bans by the nanny-state. Now people will drag their infants and the infantile into any area of a restaurant. My suggestion was when smoking bans were implemented that restaurants should make the formally smoking areas child-free areas. But that didn't happen.

So why do we cling to eating in the bar area of restaurants?

More privacy and freedom to talk is the answer. Most bar areas have booths as opposed to the open tables in the dining rooms. You are presented with a buffer zone from the diners about you.

Now you might say, "Aren't bars noisy?"

Yes, often the bar is compared with the dining room. There is often music blaring and a dozen people about the bar itself chattering away at each other, but this just adds an extra layer of privacy. Who can hear your conversation over all that. Besides it is a different noise than that of a crying baby. Babies and young children can reach decibels in their wails and banshee shrieks that would down airplanes and break glass. Generally the bar sound morphs into a background hum, something like amped up white noisy.

Still and all, it is a bar and liquor is served. In our experience most nights have just been nice people getting together to untie the bounds of their daily stress, they chatter quietly, laugh occasionally and little more. Now granted, the Little Woman and I don't frequent Biker Bars and dives. None-the-less, once in a while there is an idiot in the house.

Thus it was this past Saturday night at our current favorite dining-out place.

We have a great fondness for this particular restaurant and its bar. It has booths in the bar with extreme high backs giving us that complete feeling of intimacy. The staff is always especially attentive and friendly. Even ones not serving you may stop by for a brief chat and wish you well. You are never rushed. The food is quite good and they have specials every night, which provides a nice variety when you dine often, and we do. And their prices are low.

Every place can sometimes make mistakes. On this Saturday our wait person messed up my order. I ordered a cajan burger, what I got was a fajita panini. I know, I know, how do you mix that up, they don't sound anything alike. Well, the Little Woman ordered a fajita salad and the young lady serving us simply got fajita stuck in her head. No big deal, they made it right and were very apologetic. The wait person was a bit upset, but we calmed her down and we were happy and at the end everyone was happy.  It wasn't the end of the world.

Then near the end of dining there was a ruckus at the bar. Some middle-aged guy was screaming at the barkeep, denouncing him in strong language, pounding and stomping about some mistake with his pizza. Everyone was looking at this clown demanding his money back and denouncing all the staff. There was no reasonableness here, just a self-centered (and perhaps tipsy) moron acting out.

The Little Woman doesn't take kindly to fools who disrupt her pleasant evenings. She let this bozo know he was a jerk, told him to hit the road and added on some descriptive characteristics far more saltier than the language I employ. The guy did stomp out of the joint.

You just don't rile the Little Woman's feathers.

The crowd at the bar applauded the Little Woman and at the end of the night the manager thanked us for having their back.

At the end my meal cost me only the tip I gave the wait person.

What more can one ask for a Saturday night but a dinner and a show for the price of the tip.




(Yes, the Little Woman - 5'10" - was once a mascot, a Road Runner, "Beep beep".)