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<\/a><\/p>\nto the profitability of such as Mr. Diamond, apocalypses no matter how simplistic will continue to sell books, or Kindles or mind implants or whatever the Next Total Change will bring.<\/p>\n
Whatever the case, time to go…<\/p>\n time to exchange the Wonders of BeniciaArt<\/p>\n for opening roads and clearing skies,<\/p>\n making Monday the day we took 80 east to 89 to<\/p>\n Sierra Valley to<\/p>\n [after Hallelujah Junction] Honey Lake with<\/p>\n lunch before Sand Pass where Aggie much enjoyed rolling in the cowshit and, finally,<\/p>\n Wall Spring.<\/p>\n Whether as evidence of my theory that the living planet might be doing something about us or<\/p>\n not the abundance of life was intense…followed by an abundance of rain.<\/p>\n hail, etc.<\/p>\n and so forth; if you didn’t like the weather, wait ten minutes or<\/p>\n look out the other window.<\/p>\n About a year ago Lefty McDermitt was watching all this for the last time…but I feel him here still<\/p>\n and, on this anniversary, more than ever.\u00a0 Only a dog…<\/p>\n as life goes on greener than<\/p>\n was ever seen [all these buildings and sculptures used to appear to be MUCH bigger].<\/p>\n Memorial Day Weekend initially promised weather less volatile<\/p>\n maybe…at least it brought creatures out for the sun,<\/p>\n as well as reptiles curious about the work on their home, the shed.<\/p>\n Saturday Aggie [not shown] and I took a run into town and back by way of Planet X<\/p>\n whose annual Pottery Sale was utterly mobbed…after a look at John’s oils I came away<\/p>\n with two plates and went home to mine, finding a van packed with three Parkers<\/p>\n [descendants of next door’s Original Homesteader] parked amiably in the driveway with rumors of others down the road they couldn’t reach.\u00a0 I encouraged them to come back Sunday and they<\/p>\n promised, once they’d visited other ancestral haunts up Buffalo Creek, to do so.<\/p>\n By BBQ time there were spits of rain but it wasn’t until nearly bed that I remembered my keys were probably hopefully still in the lock of our P.O. box so made the drive, dark as pitch and not a soul to be seen, to Gerlach. The keys were there, but not alone; someone else’s were left in a neighboring lock as well.\u00a0 I met a lone white pickup halfway down the dirt and would have missed the gate were it not for the reflector I’d put out there after Linda drove by it years ago.<\/p>\n<\/a><\/p>\n<\/a><\/p>\n<\/a><\/p>\n<\/a><\/p>\n<\/a><\/p>\n<\/a><\/p>\n<\/a><\/p>\n<\/a><\/p>\n<\/a><\/p>\n<\/a><\/p>\n<\/a><\/p>\n<\/a><\/p>\n<\/a> <\/a><\/p>\n<\/a> <\/a><\/p>\n<\/a><\/p>\n<\/a><\/p>\n<\/a><\/p>\n<\/a><\/p>\n<\/a> <\/a><\/p>\n<\/a><\/p>\n<\/a> <\/a><\/p>\n<\/a><\/p>\n<\/a><\/p>\n<\/a> <\/a> <\/a><\/p>\n<\/a><\/p>\n<\/a> <\/a><\/p>\n<\/a><\/p>\n<\/a><\/p>\n<\/a><\/p>\n<\/a><\/p>\n<\/a> <\/a><\/p>\n