When I arrive in the park I find the Muny to be a real hive of activity, and being the nosy sort of person I am, I set off to find out what’s going on.
“Today is the first day they are selling individual show tickets (as opposed to season’s passes)”, the young woman standing in line with a book to read informs me. And they are passing out hot Starbucks coffee and donuts to those who are present. Cool. I’m present and reasonably accounted for, to I help myself before stepping out from under the colonnade to watch the concrete workers work.
They are pouring new concrete in the drive and on the sidewalk on the inside of the Muny circle drive and though they are almost as curious about me as I am about them, they don’t seem to mind my presence. I take care not to get in their way or get hit by the cement truck. Once I have gotten my fill of their activity, I wander toward the boat house to see what I can see. On my way there I am treated to the spectacle of a hawk being harassed by red winged blackbirds. The blackbirds are agressive, diving and swooping at the hawk, though the hawk seems to be not very intimidated by them.
It’s not much to look at, this glorified drainage ditch that separates the Boathouse from the field by the Muny circle, but along its banks grow a wild perfusion of flowers, yellow and blue and morning doves and robins alight on the rocks rocks, hop around, flutter at each other and takeoff for parts unknown. I spend half an hour hopping around the rocks myself before I am ready to end my morning’s fun and get to the work that pays the bills.