Skateboarders and Picnickers

The weather is perfect today, and at the Viewpoint, things couldn't have been better. I could have stayed there all afternoon and evening, if I hadn't had other things to get to. The beautiful weather brought the people out. There were enough that I'm quickly forgetting how many I saw, especially since I didn't count them, and I'm losing many of the other details I tried to commit to memory. When I arrived, there were just two people, I think: two boys, both wearing white T-shirts, on skateboards. I felt a little bad setting up my tripod, because I felt that in their minds, once an adult was there, doing something that involves holding still, the atmosphere probably changed. But they kept on doing their skateboard stunts, and then a third boy joined them. He was wearing a black shirt. The other two were in jeans, it seems to me, but the one in the black shirt had on plaid pants. Around the same time he showed up, a couple came walking in from the south end of the park. They sat down at the bench directly across from the point where I've taken at least thirty percent of my Viewpoint photos over the years, as well as painted a large percentage of my Viewpoint paintings. The young woman told the guy, "No! These aren't the Olympics!" and laughed. I guess he was from out of town. I took a few shots and then moved my tripod closer to the edge, and in the direction of the laurel tree enclosure, which I think of as a sort of perch. Then another couple came along--a man and a woman whom I've seen many, many times over the years. I had a very interesting conversation with them. The woman said that she's often thought that if they put prisons in places with wonderful views, the outcome would be much better than it is. I have to agree. I told the couple how often I've seen people at the Viewpoint who are obviously in grief--coping with the loss of a loved one or some other tragic circumstances. I think they go there to be soothed by the beauty of the scene and also for the perspective the place gives. When you see such a huge expanse of reality, you're reminded that you're just a small piece of something so very much larger.

There were many other people who came through the park while I was there, and I only remember a fraction of them. For some reason I remember very vividly the shirt one woman was wearing it was brown with orange rims around the short sleeves, the waist and neck. And I remember that as I left, there was another family on a picnic blanket, again with a baby. In my experience, sitting on a picnic blanket isn't the most comfortable way to eat a meal, but there's something so romantic about it. And it's no wonder Manet and Cezanne were interested in portraying picnickers. A group of people spread out in a small area while eating makes for a scenario that's potentially very interesting from the standpoint of both composition and human social interaction.