On our way to Dairy Queen for a Friday night treat I pulled over on Bay Street to try to capture this iconic building just as the lights were turned on. My copilots were anxious to be on our way so it's not quite the shot I was hoping for but I still like it.
Showing posts with label johnson street bridge. Show all posts
Showing posts with label johnson street bridge. Show all posts
Saturday, April 9, 2011
The Parliment Buildings
On our way to Dairy Queen for a Friday night treat I pulled over on Bay Street to try to capture this iconic building just as the lights were turned on. My copilots were anxious to be on our way so it's not quite the shot I was hoping for but I still like it.
Saturday, November 20, 2010
Blue Bridge
UPDATE: November 21 - Victoria voted. We are to have a new bridge but since it will take 4 years to build it we will have lots of time to say goodbye the old Blue Bridge. I think we'll lose a valuable bit of our history when it's gone but I look forward to the new span with interest.
Thursday, October 7, 2010
The Blue Bridge
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| It has been some time since I posted a photo of the Johnson Street Bridge, Victoria's unique heritage bridge and, since the spans opened yesterday when I was about to cross, it seems an opportune time. City Hall is determined to tear this bridge down despite its historical significance and considerable opposition from residents. The bridge was designed by Joseph Strauss, who also designed the Golden Gate Bridge in San Francisco. One aspect of its uniqueness is that it is actually two bridges, one for road traffic and a narrower span for rail traffic. Wikipedia has an entry that describes some of its history and significance as well as the current status of the controversy surrounding this bridge. Or, check out the City of Victoria spin HERE or some citizen views HERE. On the right, I was surprised to see how small was the tug that was pulling this barge under the bridge. It's almost like a toy tug. It looks like a telephone booth on top of a row boat. |
Wednesday, September 22, 2010
Old Town - New Lens
Tuesday, November 18, 2008
...on little cat feet.
In her comment on yesterday's post, Knoxville Girl dissed Robert Frost so today, in a demonstration of Astral-American poets' solidarity, Carl Sandberg punished me with this bit of weather. Thanks KG. May a thousand grackles nest in your eaves.
Readers who were not raised on a diet of American poetry are probably wondering what I'm on about here. An American poet, Robert Frost, wrote a poem about walls, the subject of yesterday's post.MENDING WALL
Something there is that doesn't love a wall,
That sends the frozen-ground-swell under it,
And spills the upper boulders in the sun,
And makes gaps even two can pass abreast.
The work of hunters is another thing:
I have come after them and made repair
Where they have left not one stone on a stone,
But they would have the rabbit out of hiding,
To please the yelping dogs. The gaps I mean,
No one has seen them made or heard them made,
But at spring mending-time we find them there.
I let my neighbor know beyond the hill;
And on a day we meet to walk the line
And set the wall between us once again.
We keep the wall between us as we go.
To each the boulders that have fallen to each.
And some are loaves and some so nearly balls
We have to use a spell to make them balance:
'Stay where you are until our backs are turned!'
We wear our fingers rough with handling them.
Oh, just another kind of out-door game,
One on a side. It comes to little more:
There where it is we do not need the wall:
He is all pine and I am apple orchard.
My apple trees will never get across
And eat the cones under his pines, I tell him.
He only says, 'Good fences make good neighbors'.
Spring is the mischief in me, and I wonder
If I could put a notion in his head:
'Why do they make good neighbors? Isn't it
Where there are cows?
But here there are no cows.
Before I built a wall I'd ask to know
What I was walling in or walling out,
And to whom I was like to give offence.
Something there is that doesn't love a wall,
That wants it down.' I could say 'Elves' to him,
But it's not elves exactly, and I'd rather
He said it for himself. I see him there
Bringing a stone grasped firmly by the top
In each hand, like an old-stone savage armed.
He moves in darkness as it seems to me~
Not of woods only and the shade of trees.
He will not go behind his father's saying,
And he likes having thought of it so well
He says again, "Good fences make good neighbors."
Carl Sandberg, another American poet, wrote a poem about fog.
FOG
The fog comes
on little cat feet.
It sits looking
over harbor and city
on silent haunches
and then moves on.
Wednesday, November 5, 2008
Sunday, October 12, 2008
The Gorge and Yates Street
Monday, September 29, 2008
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