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Out my Backdoor: Strange days and strange ways

 

August 8, 2019



Do you ever wonder if the big ol’ sun up there looks down and thinks, “Those are some mighty strange beings down on that little ball of mud, especially that one there, standing by the mango tree, looking up in the sky and trying to puzzle out the unfigurable”?

(Not only can I anthropomorphize with the best, I’m good at making up words.)

I can smell the moisture in the air. Morning is heavy with fog. The afternoon hot and sticky. The clouds split and gallop along the mountains on either side of our valley.

Sultry and humid it is, but a gal has got to eat. As long a chicken breast...



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