We took a walk through an unsavory part
of town today. I mean, sort of, there really isn't much in our little
town that is unsavory. We got derelict neighborhoods, abandoned
factories and we still haven't finished repairs from the 2013 floods.
Along the St Vrain river greenway
between Issak Walton pond and Main Street, we walked through many an
urban providence. Nearest the pond, which had been recently treated
with a water herbicide, the views are of junkyards and quarries. Then
past Boston Ave and Left Hand Brewing, it's vacant lots which are
anything but. Later on, near the railroad tracks, the homeless
encampments bring back memories of the Occupy Movement of 2011.
Sure, it's an industrial district, a
warehouse and shipping area complete with trailer parks and
railroads. I felt icky there. I especially felt icky when two shady
characters were shooting up in a picnic pavilion.
At supper, we were recounting the views
of the day. Janice mentioned these types of warehouse areas, mostly
abandoned, should be a place for artists. How right. But where have
the artists gone? I don't know any artists in our town. I do, but
they're much older, live in nicer houses and made their money in real
estate, banking or oil.
We talked about the artists we knew
when we were younger, in our twenties, in early 1990s Denver. Perhaps
it was easier to be an artist then.
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