Chalk Philosophy

I've been photographing writings on the sidewalk for a year or two now. Capturing them whenever I come across interesting sayings of this and that, if I have a capture device handy. It's interesting what people will write in anonymity for all to see (witness many blogs as well).

This was on our walk this morning. Apparently, someone with religious fervor felt they needed to evangelize to the path walkers and someone else followed up with several rebuttals. This was one of 3 - 4 messages.

While we were walking (the path follows an irrigation canal) we came near to a bridge crossing the canal and we heard what sounded like a cat mewling loudly along the side of the canal at water level. The slope at that point was quite steep and the grass tall. I looked and didn't see anything. When we got to the bridge, I stopped half way across and looked back. There was something at the water's edge but hidden by the grass. Then I saw a tail, feathered, a rooster. We walked back over to where it was at and I made my way carefully down the steep bank. The current in the canal is swift this time of year, and deep. Right in the water was the rooster, tired from trying to get up the steep bank through the tall, thick, grass and over rip rap rocks. I grabbed it by the neck and hauled it up. It gave no struggle, didn't try to bite ro claw. I set it down on the edge of the path and it wa so tired it rested on its belly rather than try to stand up. It didn't thank me.

Rather than leave it vulnerable in the open I picked it up again and we walked back down the path to a pasture where there were some goats grazing and I slipped it through the fence. That way it will be protected from dogs and children that frequent this pathway. I don't know if it will survive, it was pretty worn out. I didn't get a blip of that.

1928, San Francisco, California:

Sunday Morning. 6 a.m. - After 11 hours sleep! I needed it - - for the first time in my life I went down and out at a party - plain drunk I might as well say. And I got sick too, - perish the memory. I have phoned my apologies around, but that does not give me absolution nor erase my chagrin.

I don't remember passing out, but I vauguely see a compasionate girl hold a flowered bowl for my disgorgement, and wondering why she chose a thing so lovely for such a purpose.

--Edward Weston, The Daybooks of Edward Weston, II: California