This hill is bigger than it looks at first glance - kind of like "objects in mirror are closer than they appear". If you zoom in, you can see three tiny hikers framed in the second standing structure. I've climbed up and over this section of Trail from the other side, and it requires a fair stretch of time and determination- best tackled in dogged and optimistic company.But the. views are (of course) gorgeous - one year we saw a sheepherder's camp, vardo, sheepdog, flock and all! We'll definitely save this climb for another day!
(Note: I love my work, and my co-workers are wonderful people, bar none. Thus, I can only deduce that there must be a rogue - & messy! - alien among us. But that could be attributed to a repeat viewing of Men In Black last night.)
(Especially when there is thank-you pie for breakfast!)
Gotta say that one of my chief summer delights is morning coffee on the porch. It's hard to replicate in the winter - indoors on a freezing day has its own cozy charm, but just doesn't evoke the same languid warmth and serendipitous neighbourly chitchat - so I indulge on as many warm weekend mornings as possible. Kind of my own sweatless take on that timeless admonition to "make hay while the sun shines".
Anybody out there have a semi-guilty (G-rated, please) summer indulgence to share?
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I'm always amazed at fresh green sprouts among the matured purple leaves on one specific tree behind our office. I'm sure it's a normal condition for this tree variety, but I can't help the delight at such an unexpected contrast - zesty brights of spring appearing long after that season has run its course. It begets the same brand of wonder as Montana snowfall in May or September when the previous day boasted 60 degrees F. Unexpected, but enthralling because of the surprise. If we pay attention, we see micro-wonders of contrast on a daily basis - the complex geometry of a dandelion puff in the weed jungle of an empty lot, miniature bright-hued gravel gems rimming a puddle at the park, the smell of summer rain bursting through mid-July's oppressive heat canopy...Tell me your favourite eyes-wide-open glimpsed glory.
Ahh, the colours of summer brightening my kitchen sink! (Not to be confused with the more stately colours flying from our porch to honour this Independence Day.)
This rainbow chard spurred memories of our mother's sink full of greens picked from our garden. Funny how that sink seemed so huge packed with enough lettuce or chard for our family of 9, when it was probably just the standard double bowl stainless steel variety. (Insert your own tangential musings of childhood perspective and plenty.) Anyway, it was explained to me that it's important to fill the sink with enough cold water to float off any dirt and/or wiggly travelers. Wiggly travelers are NOT on my list of preferred proteins.
I am thankful for other people's gardens that provide seasonal bounty for our table. Sautéed with sliced onion in a little olive oil (okay, a LOT of olive oil, because it just makes things yummy!) with a hearty splash of lemon juice, a scant dash of Chinese 5 spice, and a sprinkle of sugar (a secret from my mother - raw & organic these days, of course), we had ourselves a gorgeous summer mess of greens!