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My snowy home on a hill.

I keep leaning toward complaints, but then I simply can’t follow through: this snow is spectacular.

I live in the Columbia River Valley, just 45 miles from the Pacific Ocean. This tends to keep my little piece of Paradise green, even in the depths of winter. But Mother Nature has been on a cold bent lately. Well, heck, I can’t even say “lately,” because it’s been cold and snowy for a couple months now. I’ve lived in very snowy places most of my life, and so this doesn’t compare, but I am still enjoying it.


Jamie and Phil after the big snow, when they were still interested in it.


The ladies have had enough snow and are running for shelter.

My chickens seem to be fine with it, but they do not like being cold. They hide in their little home most of the day rather than walk around in bare feet in the snow. They don’t eat much, leaving the chicken feed to the chipmunks. I expect to see some pretty fat chipmunks in the Spring. I need to go out each day, dump out a chunk of ice from their bowl, and refill it with water. They have also figured out that they can eat the snow.

They also aren’t laying, and I do not blame them one bit! Who would want to produce a massive egg once a day in the freezing cold? Not me.


Looking past the apple tree into the neighbor’s yard.


Beaver Creek burbles along gaily with no interruption.


The sun came out for a few days, brilliantly lighting it all up. Those are my tracks in the foreground. I just can’t stay indoors when it’s this pretty out.

My photos aren’t as good as I would like. My camera is still fried from my trip to Chile. I haven’t made it to a camera doctor yet. The weather has been so rotten that roads are sketchy, and it hasn’t been worth an hour+ drive into town. Also, I’ve been sick, sick, sick. Feeling much better now, but annoyed by this lingering cough to clear out my lungs. Sounds like I have COPD.

Anyway, my iPhone camera is picking up the slack. I hope you enjoy the photos. It’s been pure winter deliciousness here.


Our gorgeous Christmas tree!


Tara balancing new sketchbooks.



Evening sun making the treetops glow.


I rarely need to, so I do not own a decent shovel.

I found out that a blogger friend of mine was  shorthanded on, as she put it, “young energetic people,” and I answered the call. Luckily it was pre-major snowstorm, and though cold, we did our work on a beautifully sunny day. The van was parked at the storage unit and we spent the whole day emptying the storage unit and filling the truck. It was windy, and when the sun dropped we nearly froze our patooties off, but we got the job done and went home elated and satisfied. It was discovered the next day that the truck had been loaded beyond legal weight and it had to be dismantled. That day I had to work and couldn’t help.


TS inside the moving van.


These tracks just melted my heart.

I’ve got a little good news that’s probably exciting only to me, but I’ll share it anyway. I mentioned in November that I have posttraumatic stress disorder (PTSD) from military trauma. I’ll explain more about making disability claims with VA (The US Department of Veterans Affairs) later, but for now I’ll just say that I made a claim in 2008. The claim was denied in 2008 and again in 2009, so I appealed it in 2010. My appealed claim has languished for some reason. It’s still pending. I finally lost my patience and contacted my Congresswoman to stir things up a little, and it worked! Next week I will attend examinations in support of my claim. These consist of super-quick health evaluations not designed for treatment, but to assess the problem, then make an educated medical opinion on whether that problem could be related to military service. Then I wait around for someone to make a final legal decision. I’ll give it another year and then contact my Congresswoman again if necessary. Honestly, I think it has been long enough and my impatience is not out of line. If my claim is granted, any medical condition found by VA to be related to military service is then covered by VA for free. All doctor visits, medications, procedures. There is also a monthly stipend based on any loss of function determined to impact my employability. It would be a help.


World made black and white.


Playing with the sepia feature.


Thumbnail moon through birch seed pods.

Thumbnail moon through birch seed pods.

Out in my yard one evening, I looked up and spotted the moon through the branches of the weeping birch tree in my back yard. There is something very appealing and artistic about the shape of those seed pods, dripping down from the branches. I have noticed my birch tree several times during the last few days, and I am loving the changing views with the changing light.

Morning light makes dark shadows

Morning light makes dark shadows

Afternoon sun bursting between clouds lights up the pods to their yellowy fullness.

Afternoon sun bursting between clouds lights up the pods to their yellowy fullness.

The old brown pods are gone, and the new golden pods are packed with life potential.

The old brown pods are gone, and the new golden pods are packed with life potential.

Do you see what I mean about their shape? The field of vertical rods contrasts the branches of the cherry tree behind them.

Cherry blossoms

Cherry blossoms

Blossoms exploding in the sunshine like popcorn

Blossoms exploding in the sunshine like popcorn

{Oh, how clever this is! Click for what one crafter has done with birch seed pods.}

It’s the season for blossoms!

There is no better pink in the world than the pink of blossoms.

There is no better pink in the world than the pink of blossoms.

Flowers, sunshine, blue sky - if I'm not mistaken, it's Springtime!

Flowers, sunshine, blue sky – if I’m not mistaken, it’s Springtime!

Fingers of ice fan out

Fingers of ice fan out

As you may have heard on the news, Portland had a wintry weekend. We had 5-8 inches of snow in my part of town, followed by a half-inch of freezing rain. Then everything froze and stayed that way. It’s remarkable since we aren’t used to winter weather. But so many communities have had unusual winter weather this year.

In between freezing rain storms, the sun came out briefly. I went outside to photograph the ice.

frozen and sparkling

frozen and sparkling

The trees in the front yard, weighed down with ice. You can see many broken branches on top of the snow.

The trees in the front yard, weighed down with ice. You can see many broken branches on top of the snow.

DSC_0127 -1DSC_0129 -1DSC_0124 -1

Our famous Multnomah Falls, as I've never seen it before

Our famous Multnomah Falls, as I’ve never seen it before

I get to rave about one of my favourite places for scenery in the country: The Columbia River Gorge. I keep finding new reasons to talk about this place because it’s JUST SO AMAZING.

We’ve had a cold snap like everybody else. It makes ice like everywhere else. In the land of waterfalls, it makes our own backyard look like a foreign land.

Portland Public Schools kept schools closed Wednesday.  It’s typically the day I work overtime, but I was scheduled to work only 4 hours of OT, so I had lots of hours to play first. The morning was warming up and a toasty 29 degrees by the time I checked, with a forecast high above freezing, so I knew that if I was going to see the waterfalls with ice, it was now or never.

Sadly, I was too late to find the winter wonderland at its peak. Much of the ice was melting and breaking away already. It was worth it anyhow. The ice was still remarkable and the day was beautifully sunny, though our canyon is steep and forested, and no sunbeam ever reaches the falls in the wintertime.

The picturesque bridge is always a place to experience the roar and spray from the water. This time: icy spray.

The picturesque bridge is always a place to experience the roar and spray from the water. This time: icy spray.

Multnomah Falls Lodge

Multnomah Falls Lodge

Walking up to the lodge

Walking up to the lodge, we could see the top of Multnomah Falls behind it

The Columbia River Gorge

Hard for any Gorge view to compete with this one of the Vista House.

A closer view of the Vista House

A closer view of the Vista House

Miss Tara walking ahead of me on a trail

Miss Tara walking ahead of me under a rocky overhang

Once a weeping cliff; now still

Once a weeping cliff; now still

There is a falls here, but so much water spills that the entire hillside has frozen

There is a falls here, but so much water spills that the entire hillside has frozen

I hiked up to the waterfall in the photo above, and found an ice cave behind it!

I hiked up to the waterfall in the photo above, and found an ice cave behind it!

That's me doing my best to find a good shot

That’s me doing my best to find a good shot

portrait by Miss T

portrait by Miss T

My T jumps into the Sandy River

My T jumps into the Sandy River

Wednesday it reached 96 degrees. Bluh.

It was my day off from work. I was updating my financial spreadsheets on the laptop in the shade of the back yard and Tara popped her head out at me earlier than I expected. Wednesday is also early release day at the high school.

“It’s soooo hoooooottt….” she moaned, by way of hello. She had just walked home through the hot sun from the bus stop.

“Wanna skip ballet and go to the river?”

I didn’t have to ask twice.

Looking upstream

Looking upstream

Can you see the little fry in the water? Look for the shadow.

Can you see the little fry in the water? Look for the shadow.

My pretty girl in the bushes, seeking out shade to do her homework in between splashes.

My pretty girl in the bushes, seeking out shade to do her homework in between splashes.

A floating couch! There are three people on this floating contraption.

A floating couch! There are three people on this floating contraption.

A paddle boarder calmly sails through our midst.

A paddle boarder calmly sails through our midst.



These ladies carried their chairs down from the highway, walked directly into the river, sat down and began gossiping. "...and I was like, 'you can't expect me to forgive you after what you did.' And he said..." They were wonderful.

These ladies carried their chairs down from the highway, walked directly into the river, sat down and began gossiping. “…and I was like, ‘you can’t expect me to forgive you after what you did.’ And he was all…”

Finally the sun sank so low I couldn't avoid the fact that we had to get home and get some sleep for another full day.

Finally the sun sank so low I couldn’t avoid the fact that we had to get home and get some sleep for another full day.

The people at the river felt so real, so local. What a different group than I usually find myself amongst, when in Portland. No tourists here. No hipsters. No elitism.

Instead, there were families. Old guys with cigars, babies, dogs, giggling girls, young mothers, and beer guzzling young men. There were bad tan lines, sagging skin, sun browned limbs, old clothes, plastic sunglasses and flip flops. Yes, it felt pretty darn redneck, and happy, and simple.

It was a perfect place to be. 🙂

Arno at the peak of Camelback Mountain

Friday afternoon, Arno flew to Phoenix to visit me. He had been in Maryland for work, and the return flight required a plane change in Phoenix. He extended his layover by two days, and spent the weekend. {…he’s the Internet guy I mentioned last month. Just roll with it, ok.}

Class ended early Friday, and after we wrapped up tasks and had our instructor powwow and settled business for the weekend, I went back to the hotel, eager with anticipation to see my man. I arrived shortly before he did, and in no time we wound down from our day and went out to do a little exploring.

Our students (who are all local) had suggested a dinner with a view at Rustler’s Rooste, near South Mountain. We found the place, and I was delighted to find that it not only had a view but a carefully cultivated character. Entering the place was like entering a mine shaft, past walls of rock and beneath heavy timbers seeming to hold up an equally massive roof. We walked on worn wood and sawdust up a ramp, till we got inside the huge place and found waiters and waitresses in cowboy boots and hats. Arno and I stuffed ourselves on appetizers, and barely had room for the steak when it came. We drank beer from mason jars and listened to live country music.

Steepest part of the Camelback trail. It's easier to gather the height and distance if you can spot the woman at the bottom.

Terry (co-instructor) had said that on South Mountain there is a place to park and watch the sunset. Students concurred. So after dinner, bellies bursting, we drove the short distance into Phoenix’s South Mountain Park and Preserve. It is a lovely winding drive through a piece of desert that is convincingly removed from the city. We followed the road to the top, and found a small parking area and people all around. Evening light was fading, so we parked and followed the others, who sat on benches and rocks, and in a covered stone gazebo, and spilled over the sides of the mountain peak. The atmosphere was magical. It truly gave me a new reason to love humanity. Quiet voices murmured and laughed, children ran in circles, lovers stood with arms around each other. As it grew darker, the people grew quieter, and yes, everyone was there to watch the sun go down. Arno and I found a rock to sit on, overlooking the lights of Phoenix and the setting sun in the distance. We breathed the warm air, listened to the quiet laughter, watched the children. And then, the sun grew huge, and glowed in molten fire, and flattened behind a strip of cloud, then fell behind the mountains in the West.

View of Phoenix from the trail on the way up.

We got up early Saturday morning and left for Camelback Mountain, the peak I can view from my hotel room. We had hoped to get an early start, but had lounged a bit too long. There were no available parking spaces, but we eventually found a place to park in a nearby neighborhood, and made the walk with many other would be hikers to the trailhead. I hadn’t realized what I was getting into. Camelback trail is a serious climb! 1200 feet in 1.3 miles. What the trail lacks in distance, it makes up for in steep uphill stretches. At one point we could scramble up sheer rock face: straight up! There was a steel railing placed to assist, and I admit I used it. Arno, of course, trusted his feet and went directly up the slick rock.

Roadrunner on the trail

Up, up, up. We began at 7:30 am, but the heat of the day was full on us by the difficult stretches at around 9 am. I brought my Red Sox cap, but the rest of me got plenty of sun and a little burn by the time we hit the peak. There were spectacular views of Phoenix. I tried to pick out where my hotel might be. We took a few photos, enjoyed sharing the summit with the others who had made it up, then made our way back down and got to the car while it was still morning. We were passed by multiple people who had decided to RUN the trail. I wonder how many broken ankles happen in this park?

Others enjoy the summit, catching our breath, preparing for the steep trek down

We made our way next to Scottsdale. Apparently, when you are in Phoenix, the places to go have fun are not in Phoenix. “Go to Scottsdale,” they tell me. “Go to Tempe.” So off we went. It was a blazing hot afternoon and nearly as empty in Scottsdale as it is in Phoenix, but this time, I’m pretty sure it was strictly due to the heat. Unlike downtown Phoenix, we found many little shops, and actually browsed them (more to cool off than to shop). I did find some gifts to bring back home. We found a place that makes homemade sodas and ordered root beer and orange floats and carried them to a park with a man-made creek and shade. I splashed in the creek and we sat in the shade and talked till our floats were gone. Back at the hotel, we deposited all our stuff, then walked across the street to Fez for dinner. I admit I am growing weary of restaurant food! Doesn’t it get tedious? Oh, for my very own kitchen again.

We made plans for Sunday on the trails in Sedona.

Fragrant wisteria

I scooped up my girl and her cousin today and we went off to explore the Japanese garden in Portland’s west hills. I have been intending to go there for a couple of years. Then I purchased a Living Social coupon (do you LOVE those deals, or what?) to motivate myself.

Oh of course I forgot my camera, for gosh sakes. So I took the photos with my phone.

How lucky we were to happen upon a two-day bonsai exhibition from the Bonsai Society of Portland. The exhibition really is a sight to see and unlike others I’ve seen. It is springtime and the trees are in blossom! Far from traditional trained trees, this exhibit has wisteria, apple, lilac, and others in full blossom right now. The pavilion was filled with the heady fragrance of all the bonsai mixed together. Certainly there were the ever-beautiful juniper and maple and larch, as well.

173-year-old bonsai

Portland weather has finally turned warmer, so I knew the outing would be pleasant despite the deep grey skies. We did get rained on a couple of times, but it was a light rain and it suited the environment. Besides, we are all Portland girls so rain is not really much of an issue.

stone lantern

What a lovely garden. I will certainly go back because it is worth full admission price. There are two large white sand gardens, and many water features in the 5 1/2 acre haven of peace. Surrounded by towering Douglas Firs and other native trees, we often felt isolated from the city until we would come upon an overlook with a view down onto the skyscrapers below us. The day was not clear enough to see Mt. Hood, but I overheard a tour guide say that Mt. Hood was like a Mt. Fuji to Portlanders. It’s easy to see the similarity: both are sharp volcanic peaks that hold their snow when the rest of the land turns green.

hira niwa sand garden

The girls took off on their own and had scoped out the whole place by the time I was almost halfway through the bonsai exhibit. I let them hurry me through after that because the day was becoming a little chilly. In their eagerness, they missed the whole creeks-and-bridges section, and the second sand garden…so we went back to it. We found huge koi in one of the ponds, and many little stone lanterns that look like spirit houses and made me think of one of our favourite movies: Spirited Away. I will return later in the season with my camera, and alone, so that if it takes me 4 hours to get through the garden, no one will get impatient. 🙂

magical light

Strolling Pond Garden with waterfall and koi (can you see them?). This scene is surreal, as though we were in a terrarium.

The aptly named Vista House, overlooking the Columbia River Gorge, with snowy peaks of southern Washington in the distance

Locally, we have been breaking the kinds of records that are no fun to break. Climatology has been kept at the Portland airport since 1940 and the Spring of 2011 is trying to be the coolest spring since records have been kept. It was the 5th coolest April, with an average temp of 47.9 degrees. The March/April rainfall total is 11.47 inches (normal 6.35), making it the wettest spring on record (and wettest April on record). I got all this handy info from the National Weather Service’s latest Record Report, dated May 1, 2011.

The gorgeous gorge, and the Vista House on a cliff

Inside the lovingly restored Vista House with stained glass windows

When the seasonal affective disorder symptoms were about to make us want to gouge out our eyes with forks, Mother Nature blessed us with ONE gorgeous day before the rain and cool temps rolled back in. On the phone that morning, my mom told me to forget the laundry, let the shower remain unscrubbed, and go outside, I realized she was probably right. I gathered my kid and we hit the Gorge.

The last time we were at the Vista House, the winds were fierce and frightening. I know you won’t believe me, so I’ll just say this for my own entertainment: as we watched, a man took hold of the railing at the steps with both hands. He carefully lifted his legs out behind him, one at a time, and the wind HELD him in the air! Tara and I climbed out of the car, and crawled along the pavement, but were too chicken to cross, unprotected, the two lanes of the road to reach the other side where there was another short wall to hide behind. So we crawled back to the car and inched down the cliff again.

Miss Tara on the balcony

So Vista House was our destination on May Day. The winds were practically gentle, compared to the last visit!

We went to Shepperds Dell Falls, a falls we had not seen yet. There are so many along the Historic Columbia River Highway that parallels Interstate 84 that we usually only stop at two or three each time. This means that there are still falls we have not seen. We will undertake a couple of longer hikes this year, so that we can get to more of the falls off the highway. Each one is a worthy destination on its own, so we are sure to never be disappointed in the trail we choose.

The wide Columbia River and the southern Washington border

stone wall beside trail to Shepperds Dell Falls

Despite the record-breaking slow start to spring, Persephone has still returned to us. The Gorge was filled with pale green and splashes of white and pink blossoms in the trees. Rivers are running high, making the falls crash dramatically for our entertainment. Shepperds Dell Falls is at the end of a short paved path, bound by the inevitable moss-covered stone wall. These stone walls are everywhere along the Old Highway, adding an unmistakable Oregonian charm to every yard of highway and park in these parts.

bridge over Shepperds Dell

typical gorge bridge

Then it was time for lunch, and we found a lovely (only slightly damp) meadow to spread out our picnic. We lounged in the beating sunshine in lush grass amidst zillions of dandelions and tiny daisies, which looked perfectly landscaped here, though in my back yard they would be a catastrophe of weeds. Tummies full, it was time to walk to Bridal Veil Falls.

The trail is in excellent shape for this time of year, when often small landslides can make the path treacherous before Park employees come and sweep up and rebuild retaining walls. I wandered well off the path, snapping close-ups of flowers. That was self-indulgence, and mainly because my camera is still new and it’s a thrill to be able to photograph close-ups in focus! Notices warn to STAY on the trail because of poison ivy, but I’m a plant girl and I could easily identify them. I did not see any poison ivy. I did see plenty of nettles, however. I hopped deftly about but still managed to catch a leaf across my knee on my way back to the trail. (The burning went away by evening…)

the creek below Bridal Veil Falls

Bridal Veil Falls met and exceeded expectations. The only down-side being that the lovely warm dry day had brought many of us out to the trails. This popular falls was packed with people. I play games with the camera to see how cleverly I can crop the image to make it look like no one is there, but I can’t always keep the brightly coloured tourists out of the shots.

In true Crystal form, I moseyed and dawdled and all those other lovely means of travel on a sunny day in the forest. Finally we climbed back into the Dragon-Wagon and moved on once more.

We had originally intended to stop at Multnomah Falls – easily among the most tourist-mobbed stops in all of Oregon. But the masses of parked cars along the sides of the road – miles before we got to the parking lot – were too much. We live here; we can go another day. Instead we made our way back home. My girl ran off to play frisbee with the neighbor kids, and I had time for a couple of loads of laundry.

Bridal Veil Falls

Shepperds Dell Falls

Hoover Dam holding back Lake Mead, with the new bridge in the background. You can see the orange colour of the 3-story parking garage behind the dam.

I took extra time this morning to check the weather across the state of Arizona. It is much colder than I expected to see. In the eastern and northern parts of the state, snow and temperatures in the teens and twenties are widespread for the next couple of days. Well… such is the benefit of no fixed plans: I decided to head south instead of east today.  Originally I had not planned to go as far south as Phoenix, since my intent was to jet east as quickly as possible. Now I see that normal desert weather doesn’t exist for the next couple of days except south of the capital city.

First though, I wanted a better look at Hoover Dam. I haven’t been there for years, and from the bridge yesterday, it looked vastly less occupied than I recall. The truth is that the crowds were indeed thinner, but the steady stream of people and vehicles made it clear that this remains a substantial tourist attraction. What a good idea to get the highway off the dam.

The Mike O'Callaghan – Pat Tillman Memorial Bridge I stood on yesterday

Let me dispel the myths: you can still cross the dam for free! There is a beautiful new, convenient parking garage that costs $7 to park, but if you cross to the Arizona side, you can still park for free too, if you don’t mind a few hundred yards’ walk. You do have to pass through a security checkpoint, but it is quicker and easier than going through the bug station, so don’t give it a second thought. Another difference is that you cannot continue on and reconnect with the new highway. Rather, there is eventually a turn-around loop, and you must cross back across the dam in order to return to the highway. Please do make a point of going there if you haven’t already. Hoover Dam is an engineering feat rarely duplicated in the modern world. You will be impressed with the dam and the bridge, I promise.

While I stood on the dam, I spotted blue sky from over Las Vegas ever so slowly making its way toward me. I lingered. Before I left, I did indeed get to feel a blessed ray of sunshine. It planted the seed of an idea to dawdle on my journey. I knew better weather was coming and the more slowly I moved, the greater chance I had of experiencing another sunbeam.

Rain showers struck as soon as I reached open highway again, but my route took me south to Kingman. From there, I went south again, toward Phoenix. I re-examined my book of campgrounds, and chose a new one in the Lost Dutchman State Park. I drove south through rain, rain, rain. My windshield wipers never completely quit, so that was good, but they were giving me fits! I discovered that when I took the car to the shop last month and they “fixed a leak,” the leak did not actually get fixed and thank goodness I checked the oil on a whim because I discovered it empty!

A random, unmarked canyon that I trespassed into

At one point, out in the wide empty desert, I passed an unknown canyon so beautiful I pulled into the next crossover and headed back the other direction on the freeway. I parked as far off the highway as I could, and grabbed my camera and went for a walk. Though there was no sun, the rain had ceased for the moment, and it was pleasantly warm. I began walking and climbed a barbed wire fence, and before I knew it, was about a mile and a half up the canyon. The walk eased my frustrated soul. Rain drops spattered my face by the time I climbed the fence again to crawl back up the hill to the dragon-wagon. But I felt better despite the rain that poured down as I resumed my journey.

Driving the course through the city that I chose is hellish. Why oh why do people choose to live in cities voluntarily? Yuck. From Beardsley to Surprise to Sun City to Peoria to Glendale to Phoenix to Tempe to Mesa to where I finally left the highway is 62 miles of bumper to bumper traffic. Some parts of it were a maze to make the right connections, and rain poured down through it all: making visibility an issue as well. Very stressful. I turned off onto Highway 88 and went north to the park and found a solitary hike-in campsite as far away from the others as I could possibly be.

The agony through the city was worth it, however, because my choice of camp spot for the night was excellent! The park is a showcase for some of the most that a desert has to offer: craggy peaks, saguaro cactus, teeming bird life, orange rocks. I still couldn’t see much of the Superstition Mountains, towering above my tent, shrouded in ragged stratofractus and grey fog. I crossed my fingers that the next day would stop raining so I could see the whole mountain.

I set up my tent in the rain. There was no way to get through the evening dry. Ugh! Mud in the campsite, the camp gear and my backpack wet, sweatshirt and hat soaked. I put little rocks under the edges of the plastic my tent sat on, so water running through the campsite would go under the protective plastic and not touch the tent itself…but of course the rain that slid down the sides of the tent stayed on top of the plastic. So I got out a large waterproof tarp and threw it over the tent and then, using rope and rocks, I made a second shelter over the top of the rain flap.

Sunset lights up the cacti and low clouds obscure the distant peaks

Just before I went to bed, the clouds broke at the horizon and the setting sun shone through and lit up the desert. It was so beautiful, and the cacti glowed.

I had built a nice cozy bed in the tent with extra blankets on top of my sleeping bag and I stayed quite warm and was ready for sleep, but for a few distractions. There was a group of noisy kids in the campground: not trouble-makers, just joyous kid noise. There were dozens of dogs and several of them were the kind that like to go “Yap! Yap! Yap! Yap!” all night long. The rain stopped after a few hours, and a brisk wind picked up, rattling the second rain flap so loudly that I could not get back to sleep. I got up, put on my shoes, and dismantled the thing, throwing it over the site’s picnic table. I heard another joyous burst of noise that filled my heart rather than irritated me: coyotes! Very close and singing their own desert refrain. I smiled and went to sleep fantasizing that the coyotes might eat some of the pet dogs.

One of my many guises

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