"With salt piles like this, who needs the Grand Canyon? Early rays transform [the saltpiles] across the street into a natural wonder," we captioned this image of the view from our front porch two winters back.
'Been working most of the day on something we're not at liberty to blog about yet. Without revealing its purpose, we'll provocatively quote from the document we wrote this morning:
I would like to offer the perspective of a photographer/writer/blogger who has lived diagonally across the street from this evocative and ever-changing landscape for nearly 30 years. Always in search of "beauty in unexpected places," I've found [the working waterfront across the street] to be a motherlode of visually stunning and thought-provoking imagery through the seasons, grist for my photographic eye and politically philosophical tongue.
To illustrate my viewpoint, I've selected a few images and accompanying text from my blog, sisu.
"Thinking about the demographics of my neighborhood, once dominated by Poles but now heavily Latino, I'm intrigued with the presence of a significant number of Muslims, who come together to worship on Fridays in the local Roca and then disperse mysteriously to their veiled -- to me -- lives in this city that has seen wave after wave of immigrants working their way on up," we wrote:
How might . . . [local] cultural- and/or ethnic-themed seasonal events . . . enhance the lives of such newcomers, encouraging them to join the mainstream of their adopted land?
"As the bulk carrier 'Ince Atlantic' out of Istanbul unloads its cargo . . . across the street, the sun's early rays alchemize salt to pure gold," went the caption to our January 2005 post "And when I looked the salt had turned to gold."
We pass local female Muslims in various degrees of coverage daily during walkies and took hope from an encounter just yesterday when a Somali or perhaps Yemeni woman staring grimly across our field of vision towards her friends across the street suddenly let down her mask and smiled at us warmly when we took a chance while crossing the street to look into her eyes and offer a friendly "Hello." We both giggled at the unexpected pleasure. The gals from Somalia and other African countries typically delight us with the vibrant colors and textures of their costumes -- often tied behind rather than in front of the neck. Others, all clad in black on the hottest summer day, remind us that men throughout history have often attempted to puff up their importance by jackbooting women, and women have all too often complied.