Clouds and mountains merging, from the top of the cemetery.

Sorting out my books for packing. I think I managed to part with maybe 15% of my collection.

Not very often you see a parachutist near your home. I had no idea where he’d be landing, but it looked like it would be safe, he was descending very slowly.

You see all sorts at the White Post flea market. I’ve never seen such a huge left chest decoration, or barbed wire so prominent around an American eagle.

Mary Lynn, a fellow tree steward, and great friend, on a bridge over Happy Creek, by the town arboretum.

I hadn’t been down the tavern for a while, due to me being a Mrs Misery with my current situation, but I went tonight to hang out with the VIPs and see Greg and his brother, Bev, play. And dear Jim, the owner cleared my tab. I will miss this place.

All the leaves are gone. Bare trees on the cemetery skyline.