I spent much of December house-bound and abed, due to a respiratory infection. I’m one of those awful people who rarely gets sick, and then when I do, I don’t mention it because — well, don’t you just hate people who talk incessantly about their health? I do, and I don’t want to be one of those people.
I only mention it because I spent a lot of time last month looking longingly out the window at my yard at the rescue tree and the new garden bed under construction, and you might wonder why I was just sitting around staring out the window instead of going out and playing in the dirt. But I was trapped in the house, and I was also a little bit brain-addled from lack of oxygen and the amount of concentration it took to get a bowl of chicken soup down my throat. Or hot tea. Anyway, my eye tended to rest on this image:
See it? Right there in the middle: isn’t that Donald Trump hiding behind that prickly pear? This bothered me for weeks, until I could get real proof that it wasn’t.
What a relief, it’s just a bird’s nest!
Later, the good weather passed. Fortunately I was able to get out and cover the dirt pile before things got really ugly.
That’s sleet. I would have preferred snow, but I rarely get any here. Rincon Peak behind me got snow that day though.
Snow is a fine thing when it’s eight or ten miles away like that. Half of that will sublimate, but the rest will eventually be water in the well for us, and that is a very good thing. And better still, a few hours later, the sun set it all on fire:
Same mountain, same camera, same angle, same lens: actual colors. Amazing.
I’m all better now, and I won’t mention it again, heh.