So I'm stuck in El Paso during the Dog Days of summer. Somehow I think I could have planned this for a better time of year, but oh well.
So one minute we were wondering if the project in El Paso would get signed, and
the next thing I knew the last two weeks of summer were snatched out from beneath
my feet at the stroke of a pen. Gone was a long, leisurely stroll through the
State Fair. Away went at least one barbeque, one trip to the beach, at least.
Away witn two weeks with my kids who I miss terribly.
In order to shoehorn in a little bit of summer before I left, we went
to the Cottage
View drive in, one of the few remaining Minnesota drive-ins, and one
described as being likely to close after this year.
The drive-in is certainly a strange thing. I take it for granted, just one of
the items on the cultural landscape, but it's interesting to think of what it
represents: 
a time when a moving picture was an event rather than a commodity,
and when a car was a sign of prestige and comfort rather than a kind of tool
or an office on wheels. Well, okay, for some deluded fools, a car still IS a
sign of prestige, as is a hollow suburban mansion or a holiday in the Hamptons.
But the confluence of the two - the public moving picture (because not everyone
had a television in the home, and NOBODY had a "home movie player"), and the
car - create this odd thing, the drive-in theater.
Is it any wonder its on the wane? Why go sit in the vehicle where you commute for two hours daily and watch a movie through a bug-spattered windshield, when you can watch with phenomenal home sound and video? The only loss is that you don't mingle with the other patrons. Our night at the drive-in featured the occupants of the car next to me toking up during the show. Decades go by, but the smell of burning weed is still quite distinctive...
On the way home we travelled up West River Road as we usually do, slow but
calming, even at night. As we rounded a curve there was an owl, standing in
the road in front of us. As we pulled up it flew up onto a nearby tree.
The photo at right was taken completely blind -- I couldn't actually SEE the
owl -- with a very long exposure. Even then I had to bump the brightness and
contrast, so it looks a bit washed out. As I took several snapshots at
different long exposures (using the car hood as brace), it sounded like the
owl was crying out a few times. Then I turned around and realized that another
owl -- its mate? -- was in the tree behind me.
Another part of summer is the annual Growing of the Monarch. In past years we
have contented ourselves with one monarch at a time. But this year, with
transplanted milkweeds now well-established in the garden, we ended up growing
two pairs of monarchs, about three days apart.
Part of this was our desire to catch the moment of pupation itself. Past
years we've looked, and seen the grown caterpillar in its "J" shape, and then
at next glance it's fully pupated. This year having four caterpillars allowed
us to catch all the important points. But not without some effort. My spouse
maintained a vigil for three hours one evening, and a couple more in the morning
before calling me in for the big event.
So we got in a few summertime things before El Paso loomed up and ate the last
part of my summer. I have some El Paso photos to post, but dinner is calling and
this entry is already long enough. Hopefully I'll post again before two weeks
pass, but if I don't, here's one last shot of the butterfly disappearing, like
summmer, never to be seen again...