June days while Dave was here were bright, fairly mild

and, once the Rambler was pulled out and readied for pick-up,

included the Friday when, 72, 74 and 76, we went in his jacked-up Jeep

to the zigzag spring,

walked over a rocky ridge

[as Casey’d said “there’s a lot of water in the Buffalo Hills, Dave”]

to the magical bench of Junipers

overlooking the desert,

back and

down to find

three phoebes [two shown] fledged in readiness…

to begin Lives as Birds.

Their first day out was rainy and cool, a day we lay abed in morning drizzle thinking of waffles and french toast [not that any of that happened]; bacon and butter and…

arose to a muddish walk around the ponds, the accustomed watercolors and later

a father’s day call from Luz and Christine [with Izel] which turned into Facetime and

rainbows, just like old times; rainbows.

A new week,

an other day, to the Post Office for “cremated remains” then

another other day

up the road to Alturas

for Fords and

groceries, tacos,

gas and books in Cedarville

and home

with, to celebrate three June 19th Birthdays – Luz Fleming [who got in a surf on the eastern coast], John Boyd in Albuquerque, and Linda’s late sister Elayne – fresh oysters.

Desert living in the Age of Trump.