Next morning, winter in April, wintry all day

a Wednesday following the South Bay adventures

with geese on the water, a rare view of the pinstriping on Bill’s ’70 Chev’s hood

and in the evening an opening of what Kelly Sultan remarked was Larry’s long-awaited homecoming to SFMOMA with lavish hors d’oeuvres, copious wines and a dinner.

Offering opportunity for great, maybe too great, fun as all the next day while packing

I was regretting dumb things said to smart people, a hangover of the mind.

Friday, a little late maybe,

we were away at 10:30 moving briskly towards the foothills with Ira Flatow on the radio being warned he’d “better get introspective”, called “arrogant” and then, when he pressed the caller for evidence of said arrogance, called an “arrogant asshole”.

Trumpian Trolling, but, to be fair, the guy didn’t unveil the second “a” word until exasperated by that attempt at “reason”, asking for evidence being evident of arrogance to him.

Anyway, although finding the linguistic and cultural ramifications of this profoundly disturbing,

I exited on Antelope to collect Trigger’s rebuilt fuel delivery system from the Carburetor Factory,

thence to Heather Glen and, after several of the usual stops, over the hill to Doyle…

2:30 p.m. for a bite and around the south end of Honey [usually dry] Lake

to Sand Pass before which somebody actually passed me on the graded gravel, a definite first.

I pulled off for a look and a leak, passing by the passer where he’d stopped at Bonham and then

up the desert, maintaining my customary 70+ mph, to where a brown 4×4 maxi van was parked dead center in the road, hard to sort that out.  Going around him [brand new, Cali plates, all the bells and whistles] in the ditch the dude neither noticed nor looked up from his device…busily trying to find out where [if not who] he was via GPS, although there’s really only the one road, after all, even if google hasn’t been able to decide what to call it. He was apparently eventually successful as Sunday the van went by Wall while I was on the porch having lunch.

Home, tiny leaves leaping forth everywhere, soft but not quite muddy ground; load in, dogs out

and the well-watered playa [run-off-watered, not well watered].

Saturday some sore-footed walking, legacy of SCU and SFMOMA, picking up tin strewn in the wake of the winds, inspecting the waters, etc.

Next day inadvertently caught and deliberately released a baby bunny [not shown] from one of the woodrat traps as this other Easter Creature appeared multiple times in multiple locations.

Later I went to dinner next door.

Monday, more wind, more green,

fungi, probably not much fun to eat…

and our old scatter piece, slowly dispersing down the years.

 

So much for the weakened, and beyond.

M