Discover Top Posts Tagged with #fresno

Tu não precisa de nada para estragar tudo. 🎶

hi, if youre in fresno ca and wanting to go to the Mom Jeans concert at the tioga brewery dm on insta : )

im not going anymore and would love to sell it to someone who'd love to go

@bigassrhinoo on inst

If you ever have the opportunity to tour the Kearney Mansion Museum in Kearney Park in Fresno County, DO IT. At 123 years old it's just as beautiful today as it was the day construction was finished.

#central valley #fresno county #california #fresno #history #guided tours #123 years old #Kearney Park museum

Adam-12 weekdays at 4:30 on Channel 24 in Fresno

#fresno #Channel 24 #Adam 12 #television logos #jack webb #KMJ #martin milner #kent mccord

I’d like to go on a walk and pick up pinecones. several streets, a few blocks down, there’s a wide street lined with pine trees. all kinds of trees, but known — famous— for its Christmas trees.

lots of acorns and pinecones, big ones and fat ones and rotund ones, ones that are sturdy and one that are oblong and flat, already crushed. and ones so small, so tiny, they look like acorns.

pine needles, all the time. even evergreens turn brown, orange, tan, when the pine needles fall and die.

so many, it was like a forest floor, because there were so many pine trees. a thin strip of forest floor between private property and the paved road. so many it was sort of soft to step on, like a bed of not roses, but pine needles.

it’s a satisfying sound of tiny rocks, pebbles, gravel, the crunch of pine needles. the sound changed depending on what you were stepping on. you could hear yourself entering little micro sound environments every few steps. the soft crunch of needles, the hard crunch of tiny rocks, the crisp crunch of hard packed sand. now and then to avoid something, like a puddle, mud, a fallen branch. you’d have to walk in the road, if no cars were coming. and usually there weren’t. it’s not a busy street. pretty quiet. quiet enough to hear the change of sound as you stepped, and the pavement was the quietest. like for a moment it would go silent even as there was action, like a missing soundtrack, then back to crunch. the softest crunch was the needles.

no matter what season, doesn’t need to be fall. they fall at any time, all the time, and they never get up, because there’s too many, and they fall between the road and a property, this liminal space that doesn’t belong to the homeowner, and not quite the pavement of the road. too long of a stretch, one long stretch, except for one section with cross traffic, but you cross and it keeps going, one long stretch.

houses and homes, but they aren’t the main attraction. the trees are.

especially during Christmas, when all the trees have lights. the city comes and strings lights.

but no one rakes or sweeps, rarely does anyone clear their portion, in front of their home.

not really bothering anyone, and typically they’re driving, pulling out of a driveway and heading down the pavement to some destination.

the don’t have to think much about the needles and the pebbles and the pinecones.

but I don’t drive, I never did, and it was a peaceful place to walk. about 40 minutes in one direction, then back.

I wasn’t going anywhere, I didn’t have a destination. that was the destination. just to walk up and down. “just going up and back.”

nothing much ahead, just more houses in a mostly straight, long line, disappearing into the horizon. not looking back, behind me.

if anything, looking at my feet. so I don’t trip on anything, on any fallen branches or raised pavement where roots are growing. rocks and mud and sand and puddles.

“watch your step.”

multiple terrains on one walk, sometimes every few houses, a new terrain.

I’d pick up interesting pinecones as an occasional souvenir. if it looked good, looked sturdy, particularly robust, looked ornamental, or looked like an acorn. tiny. put it in my pocket.

the bigger ones, though. just had to carry it.

walk in, put it somewhere. find a place to put it.

“that would look nice. this is good. right here.”

a free decoration. a naturally occurring souvenir. a keepsake. kept for the sake of nothing in particular, just that it looks nice.

something to bring back from up and back. something that was outside is now inside. was on the ground, now on a shelf, a table. can’t bring them all, but I could carry these ones, this one. like picking a Christmas tree to display at home but it’s just the pinecone.

not all the time, not each trip. just if something caught my eye. felt good in my hands and could fit in one.

sometimes I’d pick one up, give it a closer look, and set it back down. sometimes it looked good, but then you’d turn it over and it would be crushed or crumbling or too dirty.

I wasn’t trying to save them all, anyway. just to preserve now and then if I thought one or two looked neat, like a piece of art. or so tiny it shouldn’t get stepped on. would be a shame.

something to remember the walk by.

we have a few, still. a souvenir from another time. another life. just up the road.

#Fresno