"A mysterious man and his extraordinary cats, leaving their former lives behind to start fresh among people of a culture unfamiliar to them, in a state bigger than life, home to legends of American history, bound and determined to impart their wisdom to all they encounter, while discovering what their new surroundings could teach them as well.
He is here, among you...
Living with his companions in an abode, somewhere out there, in Houston....."
I wrote those words and more, sharing some cool photos, in a fun essay introducing myself, at the end of my first month in my new city.
As readers know a hell of a lot has happened since.
A few days ago, looking for inspiration during this difficult time in my life, I wandered down to the opposite bank of the "Birthplace of Houston", Allen's Landing; a spot whose history is based as much on truth as on bullshit and has seen much in the way of change and development in its lifetime.
The still little visited park, on Commerce St, between Fannin and the bridge at "The Foot of Main" had a rebirth of sorts in 2001 as the first steps toward making it look nice and family friendly took place.
Now the powers that be are gettin' serious and the homeless who tended to hang out there have moved on due to new construction.
The "Heart of Houston" is being given first aid as it looks to take its place in an ongoing revitalization effort of the downtown area.
I stood there, at the confluence of Buffalo and White Oak bayous, 21 months into my own, ongoing, effort at personal, career and creative, revitalization, feeling the breeze as it blew around me.
Despite all my problems (a few late bills and trying to pay the June rent) I was at peace with my decision to move here from SoCal and pondering how to move forward in the days ahead.
A few blocks down the road we came across the bus I missed...several cop cars and an ambulance.
After picking up passengers we passed the scene and I saw the front of the bus and bike rack bashed and a pick-up with damage...plus a damaged bike in the street.
The truck made a left, trying to beat the light and failing. The damaged bike was on the bike rack. If the bike was already on the rack before my stop then MY bike would have been on the front of the 2 spaces.
I also found myself having the workings of a new poem pop into my head as I thought of the Allen's Landing visit and another photo I'd taken. Just another mixed-up day in my life.
This morning I finished the poem and now present it with the Allen's Landing photo: