Last Full Day at Chongwe; A Day of Wonderful Surprises
I’ve really dragged this out as long as I can; as long as I am telling you about the trip, I get to relive it. In truth, I don’t want to let it go. We’ve been to Africa so many times, but this was one of the best trips ever.
It’s a little colder in the lower Zambezi than in the South Luangwa, so we dress in multiple layers, and we wrap up our heads, too. Victor and CJ join us for light breakfast and we head off on our last game drive. We have had so much fun with Victor; he works so hard to find us what we want to see, even trying to track down a leopard on a limb, with one of our party is eager to see. This morning, first thing, he takes us to a giant Baobob tree, which looks like it has Christmas decorations on it:
When you get a little closer, you can see it is full of Baboons, huddling together, trying to warm up after the chilly night.
He takes us to a sector of the Zambezi with severe erosion that reminds me of Cappadocia and there we spot a group of Zambian anti-poaching rangers, heading off on their day’s duty. These guys are real heroes. They leave their families and live outdoors, spending their nights out among the wild animals. There are real dangers, not so much from the animals, but from the poachers, who will kill an elephant just to cut out the tusk.
Victor spots a very cold little jackal, all curled up, trying to grab a couple winks:
We find a group of Cape Buffalo, still moving a little slowly so we can photograph them, but kicking up a lot of dust!
Yesterday, Victor found a leopard was on the limb but jumped down just as we arrived. Today, we see a beautiful large male leopard, being chased by an elephant. We get between them, not the smartest thing to do because the elephant is just behind us! I’ll show you photos of the elephant later – right now I want to talk about taking photos on safari.
You might guess I took a lot of photos. You might suspect you just get to see the best ones, and sometimes even the best ones aren’t all that good. Here is the problem. You don’t have a lot of control. You sometimes only get a quick glimpse. You can have an amazing experience, and then look at your photos and they are all too far away, or there is a small but important problem. I am going to be very very humble and show you the things that can prevent a good leopard shot:
Big male leopard, but you can barely see him in the shade and he’s heading off:
Now he’s walking into the bush:
You’re not going for perfect; you just keep shooting hoping for something good, but now he’s in the bush, behind the bush:
Now he is coming from behind a tree:
Then you get what might be the best photo you can get:
And then he walks away – leopard butt!
Are you getting the idea? You just really have to hang in there! Now, frustration, he has settled behind a bush:
Almost a great shot, if it weren’t for all that tall grass!
And here, he looks tawny and powerful, look at those muscles, but you can hardly distinguish him from the background:
The perfect shot! Oh wait . . . he’s blurry:
And this might be good . . . if he weren’t walking away, and most shots of leopards are them walking away:
I’m not kidding you, that is the exact sequence of this day’s leopard shots. But! He who persists, prevails!
Now! The Payoff shots:
Wooo HOOOOOO!
Can you imagine our exhilaration? Of the four of us, I have the smallest camera, with the least capability. I can only imagine how beautiful my friends’ photos are. This was a special moment, the moment the leopard stood still, out in the clear. You cannot make those moments happen, you just have to cherish them when they do.
LOL, this is what comes next – more humility:
It’s time for coffee, and Victor knows just the place – a palm grove:
It looks warm, but we still have one long sleeved layer on.
We head on searching for lion, which we do not find today. We find other things:
It is getting later, and we reach the camp boat waiting for us in Lower Zambezi National Park to head back for camp. . . About fifteen minutes into the drive, after spotting five huge crocodile sleeping on the riverbanks (each rolling off as we approached before the boat could stop rocking long enough for us to shoot until
the last one)
We approached a bank, not our camp, where a picnic was set up on an island – for us! We had no idea! Our Albida House butler, Steve, was there to greet us, as he is when we return to camp, and a crew including a chef, who is cooking a late breakfast with lamb steak, sausages, several salads, and fried eggs. We are set up out under a shady tree in camp chairs, at a table with tablecloth and napkins, and it is so elegant and so glorious, and it is a little paradise.
After our picnic, it is a five minute ride back to camp, where Victor drops us off
I have to wash my hair! I intended to yesterday, but there was a very cold breeze blowing and our bathroom is open to the elements, so I skipped a very chilly shower. Today, I must shower and wash my hair! It is a brighter, warmer day, so I do, and it is delightful, showering in the huge open bath area, nice hot water, a tiny chilly breeze, but big thick towels and a warm robe to wrap up in.
It feels so good to be clean! We get so dusty on our drives!
AdventureMan follows, showers and shaves. We are leaving tomorrow morning, and he knows it will be chilly in the morning and wants to get it done while it is warm, so while my hair dries in the soft breeze, we chat about how much we love this place.
For me, the greatest luxury is privacy. I do enjoy the people I am meeting, and at the same time, I need some quiet and some time alone. The great gift of being upgraded to this family suite has given us some wonderful dinner conversations, the ability to dine informally and earlier in the evening, and the joy of space and time. We have been less regulated here, more able to be ourselves. It is a great luxury.
After our quiet time, we had tea . . . well, really, I had mocha, decaf and cocoa. And cake. For all our protestations of wanting to eat healthy foods, they keep bringing us the most delicious cakes and desserts, along with a big bowl of fruit. We never choose the fruit. We are able to hold ourself to half portions. Well, some of the time we are.
Today I stayed back while the other three of us went canoeing in the afternoon, imagine, canoeing on the Zambezi, what a thrill. I packed, thoughtfully, and watched the hippos transfer from their sunning spot to their sand spit. I always loved what I thought of as hippo-laughter, but I am told it is simply an announcement of “I am here.” Like a space – I am in it. I wouldn’t want to get between a hippo and where they were going, but I do find them charming, and I still love hippo sounds. For me, another day in paradise is having the luxury of some time to myself, not to do anything important, think through my packing, read a little of the book I am reading, watch the hippos, just enjoy my own company for a few minutes.
They have brought in a large barrel and put it by the fire; it looks like a kind of a grill . . . hmmmm. They are so full of good surprises here. I wonder what this one is all about.
It IS barbecue, and when the three canoe-ers come back, all full of a really fun adventure, we sit by the fire with our wine and watch dinner being cooked. It is dark, but the cook has a headlamp so he can see what he is doing:
Our last dinner – awesome!
We fly tomorrow, first from “Royal,” which is really just a strip, to Lusaka, then from Lusaka to Johannesburg, then from Johannesburg to Atlanta and then Pensacola. We have only confirmed two flights . . . there is no internet connection in the bush, not for guests. It makes things more complicated. I am just hoping they make allowances for such, especially on the Delta flight out of JoBerg, but as our travel friend says “who cares if we get home on time? It was only getting here that mattered!” and she is right!
As we get into bed, we have hot hot water bottles, in cheetah-patterned flannel covers. 🙂 ZZZZzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz . . . . .
Nsefu, Day Two, Salt Pans and A Pink Hippo Sunset
We are up only half an hour earlier, but it feels lime the middle of the night. We dress quickly, although it seems a little warmer this morning, and head directly for the game tracker, where we meet up with Jonah, our guide. Jonah was up early yesterday, taking our friends to Kawazaa, got back in time for tea, and then took us out for an evening drive. When does he sleep?
This morning, our goal is to head out to the salt pans before it gets too hot, and thank goodness there are nice thick blankets, because once we get going, it feels a lot colder, and we are all bundled up.
We are on the road before sunrise!
On the way into the huge, flat plain, Johah stops to pick up some leadwood to use for a fire. As we near the hot spring, we spot a jackal! He is cold, and shy, and the light is dim, so no jackal photos, not this time . . .
We arrive at the hot springs just as the sun is coming up, we all help unload and set up the chairs, and our two German lion-hunters from the last time we were there drive up and we exchange greetings and information. The hot springs area has its own unique kind of beauty, and we are all busy taking photographs while Jonah builds a fire.
The cooks have pre-cooked the bacon and sausages, which is a good thing when for a hearty, delicious, totally non-healthy breakfast out on the salt pan where there may be hungry lion hanging about. 🙂
On the way back, we stop now and then for some heartstoppingly beautiful photos – pukus and zebra against a lush green grassy background, eagles and fabulous birds, and it is one of those wonderful mornings altogether, nothing spectacular, but a series of lovely moments. No lions. Not every day can have a lion. But every day has its wonderful moments, and this morning, we had several. 🙂
Men from the village ride by, but there are no lions, no elephants, and nothing we have seen to warn them about:
I couldn’t help it, I love the way these two zebra seem to join at the hip:
The camp is full when we arrive back, three tour agents here to learn about the Robin Pope culture, take a drive, take a guided hike – and it is a warm afternoon. We have lunch, and we all head to our cabins; no elephants crossing today, maybe it’s a Saturday thing. I wash my hair; I need to do it in the afternoon because there are no hair dryers, and I have a lot of hair. It dries in the warm afternoon breezes, and is fully dry by tea, before we leave on our afternoon game drive.
This is a Wydah and its tail gives it a loopy up-and-down kind of rhythm:
We stop for sun-downers by the river, our last sundown on the Luangwa, and what a gloriously pink sunrise it is. The hippos are getting ready to leave the river to forage for supper, and are busy yawning in the pink twilight, but every time I look away to answer a question, one chooses to yawn and I miss it. It happened so often, with such regularity that I figured I simply wasn’t meant to get that hippo-yawning-in-the-pink-sunset photo, at least not here, but it’s been a great lovely sunset, a magnificent sunset, and a lovely way to say farewelll to the Luangwa.
Of all our trips to the Robin Pope Camps in the South Luangwa Valley, this has been one of the very best.
I’m tired when we get back, it’s been such a lovely day. I beg off going to dinner; I need some quiet time. The cook sends me a poached egg on toast, just what I need. Every meal has been so good, so filling, but occasionally, like a tired child, I need quiet, and a simple meal. I plan my packing for the next day in serene peace.
Galilee Cafe, Mobile, and Foley AL; Life in Small Adventures
AdventureMan was perusing the Weekend Section of the Pensacola News Journal when he saw the opening of the Farmer’s Market in Foley, AL, and he said “Let’s go!”
“Let’s Go!” and my agreement doesn’t always mean we will really go. The market isn’t until 3 in the afternoon, and a lot can happen. Sometimes we just change our minds.
But at water aerobics, I get a great idea, and I can hardly wait to share it with AdventureMan.
“Let’s go to the Jordan River Cafe for their Friday buffet, then head down toward Foley through Fairhope!” He loves the idea, we run a couple errands on the way home, I call the restaurant to make sure they are still open (It’s been about a year since we last went there) and then hit the road for Mobile:
When we get to the restaurant, we discover it is no longer the Jordan River Cafe; it is now the Galilee Cafe, and I wonder if the food will still be so good as before. As we enter, we are shocked – the Cafe is PACKED. Every table is taken – no, no, there is one small table, over in the back, we can have that one, the welcoming waitress says.
Galilee Cafe
326 Azalea
Mobile
T: 251-304-0297
Lunch was fantastic. Yes, the restaurant has changed hands; the current owner born in Bethlehem, and we are astonished and delighted to see so many people enjoying “Mediterranean” cuisine, which is suspiciously like what we used to eat in Jordan and Syria 🙂 The restaurant stayed busy the entire time we were there, so busy that some people ate outside on the front terrace. The food is delicious, and worth the drive from Pensacola. The Friday buffet (and it appears they also now have a Sunday buffet) is all the usual suspects – hummous, baba ghannoush (some of the best I have tasted), tabouli, fattoush, etc. plus a lot of the home-cooked favorites, lamb, chicken, grains, beans and vegetables, pita bread – all delicious.
The first time AdventureMan went to this restaurant (as the Jordan River Cafe) he went with a Saudi buddy and his son, and he has talked ever since about the route they took, but we never knew how to find it. Yesterday, we experimented, taking a right on Azalea as we left, and driving down to Government and turning left. (These iPhones are great navigational tools) It takes you through an older part of town, with large glorious mansions, and into a rather quiet downtown Mobile.
The good news is, it takes you to another tunnel under the Mobile Bay, closely paralleling the one I-10 uses. We like to have an alternative; I-10 can get clogged going through Mobile. This route serves our purposes as it is Highway 98, and it is the road we want to be on to get to Fairhope and then to Foley.
It is a lovely day for a drive, and while we have taken this drive before, it is never the same twice in a row. As we are on the stretch between Fairhope and Foley, the clouds darken and a few stray drops fall.
“That wasn’t bad!” I said as we arrived in Foley, promptly at three for the opening of the Farmer’s Market. “Great parking, too!”
We got as far as the first booth, which was soaps and toiletries (I love hand made soaps) and AdventureMan walked off to explore the rest of the stalls – and the torrent broke forth. Rain came down in buckets, and lightning came, crackling and booming, one strike after another. It never lasts very long here, so I thought we would just wait it out. The wind is blowing the rain under the canopy, so we gather up all the soaps to try to keep them dry, and we wait. And we wait. AdventureMan comes back, soaked; the wind has blown the rain under his umbrella. We wait another five minutes, and then everyone is starting to pack up – and I never made it beyond the first stall! We quickly made our purchases, ran to the car, and drove home mostly without air conditioning because we were so soaked and shivering.
The Farmer’s Market is held on Friday afternoons, 3 – 6 pm, in Heritage Park:
It was a great adventure 🙂 Thank you, Google Maps, for making it so easy to share the small adventure with our friends.
Terrify Them With Your Hurricane . . .
From today’s readings in The Lectionary, a psalm to which anyone who lives on the Gulf of Mexico can relate . . . there is a total realization of God’s awesome power in the nature of catastrophic events, and people who are not believers find themselves praying . . .
Psalm 83
A Song. A Psalm of Asaph.
1 O God, do not keep silence;
do not hold your peace or be still, O God!
2 Even now your enemies are in tumult;
those who hate you have raised their heads.
3 They lay crafty plans against your people;
they consult together against those you protect.
4 They say, ‘Come, let us wipe them out as a nation;
let the name of Israel be remembered no more.’
5 They conspire with one accord;
against you they make a covenant—
6 the tents of Edom and the Ishmaelites,
Moab and the Hagrites,
7 Gebal and Ammon and Amalek,
Philistia with the inhabitants of Tyre;
8 Assyria also has joined them;
they are the strong arm of the children of Lot.
Selah
9 Do to them as you did to Midian,
as to Sisera and Jabin at the Wadi Kishon,
10 who were destroyed at En-dor,
who became dung for the ground.
11 Make their nobles like Oreb and Zeeb,
all their princes like Zebah and Zalmunna,
12 who said, ‘Let us take the pastures of God
for our own possession.’
13 O my God, make them like whirling dust,*
like chaff before the wind.
14 As fire consumes the forest,
as the flame sets the mountains ablaze,
15 so pursue them with your tempest
and terrify them with your hurricane.
16 Fill their faces with shame,
so that they may seek your name, O Lord.
17 Let them be put to shame and dismayed for ever;
let them perish in disgrace.
18 Let them know that you alone,
whose name is the Lord,
are the Most High over all the earth.
May In Seattle
From the bone chilliing 47 degrees mid-day on my arrival, the temperatures in Seattle flew up up and up. By Sunday, the American Mother’s Day, the temperatures were up 30 something degrees, in the mid to high 70’s, and Monday and Tuesday were the same. Good thing we got most of the heavy sorting and tossing andhauling done during the beautiful, but cooler weather before the weekend.
We had a lovely Mother’s Day, Mom got to sit out in the sun, under a huge umbrella, got to play with her great grandchildren, had all her children surrounding her. It was a gorgeous sunny day in a beautiful setting. We all had a lot of fun.
To add icing to the cake, I had the great luxury of time with my best friend from college, time to sit around and catch up, philosophize, all the things we did before husbands and children came along. Now we have as much to talk about as ever, and the great luxury of time in this trip to get to know all the little things, too. What a great blessing. Back to Pensacola, and gearing up for the next big trip!
Jesmyn Ward and Salvage the Bones
You are fifteen, poor, black, and motherless as this book opens. Dad drinks, and isn’t around much. You are the only girl in a family of brothers. Having sex is no big deal, and there is one guy you really like, Manny.
Your oldest brother’s pit bull is having puppies, and you are having trouble with throwing up most of what you eat, especially every morning. Dad says a hurricane is coming, but he’s said that before, no big deal.
As this book opens, it has the feel of a myth of the nightmare kind. We know, because we have the benefit of hindsight, that the impending storm, Katrina, will be catastrophic. The Batiste family has already suffered a catastrophic storm with the death of their Mama, just after the birth of her last child. Throughout the book, we watch these children suffer the daily absence of their mother, raising one another, squabbling, but tenderly looking after one another.
If someone had told me about this book, I don’t think I would have wanted to read it. Amazon.com kept telling me I needed to read it, so finally, I did. From the opening page, I was in a world utterly alien from my own, and yet a world I could understand and inhabit. There are worse things than being poor, and one of them is heartless. This family has heart; they are loyal to one another, they look after one another and they sacrifice for one another. For all the violence – and there is a lot of violence – there is also beauty.
There is the familial love, and there is the love between Skeet, the oldest brother, and his dog, China. There is friendship, and good people who give you refuge in the aftermath of the storm. There is the stunning numbness of surviving the worst hurricane ever.
Jesmyn West has a deft touch, with the language, with the interweaving of the Medea myth, with non-verbal communication, with the complexities of families and love. This is a book worth reading.
Grand Canyon, Arizona and the El Tovar Hotel
Today is a very short drive, 136 miles, and we arrive in the Grand Canyon easily before noon, taking off to take the East Rim Drive to Desert View while waiting for our hotel room in the El Tovar Hotel.
We’ve heard of El Tovar for years. You’ll overhear the following conversation. There may be some variations, but it’s pretty much the same every time.
“Oh! Grand Canyon! Are you staying at El Tovar?”
(yes)
“Oh! It’s the most wonderful hotel! We loved staying there!”
Or:
“No, we tried, but we couldn’t get reservations at El Tovar, they were already booked.”
“Oh. That’s too bad.”
We didn’t want to be on the ‘that’s too bad’ list, so when we decided to make the trip, the first thing I did was to find out when rooms were available at El Tovar. We had planned the trip for October. We postponed the trip until April, to be able to stay at El Tovar. We had a great room, even had a view, but for grins, we asked how far in advance you have to reserve to get one of the rooms with a balcony view – 13 months in advance. Who even knows 13 months in advance that they will still be alive 13 months later?? I guess it’s worth the risk – and if we go again, we will reserve 13 months in advance.
My sister Sparkle has stayed at El Tovar and warned us that the rooms were not luxurious. “They’re sort of spartan for your tastes,” she warned us “Don’t expect too much. You’re paying to be staying in the Canyon and in this revered old lodge.”
The El Tovar Lobby:
We didn’t expect much, and our room was at the top of the stairs. We were concerned about noise, but it turned out to be a non-issue. There weren’t a lot of children traveling at this time of the year, and very few staying at El Tovar. Because we weren’t expecting much, we were delighted. Our room was sunny and bright, the beds were very comfortable, the linens were lovely, the old fashioned bathroom delighted my heart, and there was a funny room – a closet? That had a safe, windows that opened so we could see the view, and if we had had a baby with us, his little crib could have fit into the alcove. There was also a coffee machine, yes, it doesn’t take much to make me happy. Although we had been told that wi-fi was only available in public areas, our room must have been close enough, and the wi-fi strong enough, that we had access without leaving our room once we had settled in for the night.
“Be sure to make your dinner reservations six months out,” Sparkle warned, so I marked my calendar and on the day that was six months out, the earliest that the El Tovar restaurant accepts reservations, we called in a dinner reservation, and oh, we are so glad we did.
When we showed up, the first night, for our 6:30 reservation, there was a long line, and people were being turned away, so disappointed. We had a lovely table, with a view, and a waiter, Thomas, who was attentive without being intrusive, knowledgeable about the menu, and took great care of us. It was a lovely evening, and I had another of the best meals of the trip – a Mediterranean Salad with smoked salmon, and the salmon was the smoked chunky Alaskan kind, not the thin strips of Scottish salmon. Oh, YUMMM.
(This was not our table. We had a newlywed couple who came in as we were finishing. Isn’t this a lovely, romantic way to welcome a new bride and groom?)
AdventureMan had the Penne, which he said was also very very good:
We had planned to have dessert, but we couldn’t, we were just so full. The salmon in my salad was so rich and so tasty. We couldn’t eat another bite! And we also wanted to get to bed early, so we could get out by five to catch the sun rising over the Grand Canyon first thing in the morning. Before going up to our room, we tried to make reservations to eat dinner again in the El Tovar dining room, but they only had seatings at 5:15 and 9:30. Oh aargh.
Next morning, we are up and eager to get going, but we have to skirt around the lawn on the way to the car, as there is a herd of elk munching. We don’t want to disturb them and also . . . elk are very large animals. We really don’t want to disturb them.
We hurry to Desert View, at the end of the East Rim trail, only to find that the day has dawned with a heavy cloud cover, and there is no sunrise to speak of. LLOOOLLL! It is also 40 something degrees and windy, really, really cold!
The Painted Desert and the Petrified Forest – Crossing into Arizona
Leaving Albuquerque, we are delighted to be taking I-40 going West; it’s like everyone else is on I-40 coming East. The drive is smooth, a little road work here and there, but nothing that holds us up in any major way. We cross the continental divide (where all the rivers on the east side flow to the Gulf of Mexico, and those on the West side flow into the Pacific) and we wonder what the divide is called, if anything, that divides rivers flowing into the Gulf of Mexico from rivers flowing into the Atlantic?
We are driving along the old Highway 66, too, which is fun, seeing the nostalgic old signs and relics from the 40’s and 50’s, when Route 66 was in its heyday and there weren’t big interstates fully functioning.
From Carlsbad, where we saw temperatures up to 99° F, we have dropped considerably, and hit the road with a temperature around 45°, which rises as we drive toward the Painted Desert and the Petrified Forest. When we arrive, it is in the 80’s (F) and a bright, partly cloudy day. The colors and the scenery are unimaginable.
I included this one because it made me laugh. These signs are necessary; Americans are inclined to wander off the trail, it’s in our nature, and we need these signs to make us more careful where we are stepping 🙂
As we leave the Painted Desert trail and head into the Petrified Forest area, the weather starts getting seriously complicated and the temperatures start dropping:
I’ve never seen a toilet like this before. It’s amazing:
At the risk of giving you too much information, whatever goes into the toilet evaporates due to the constant wind action. Whoever sits on the toilet has the unusual experience of having a wind-dried bottom:
We start moving a little faster, not lingering as the weather changes:
Can you see how the light has changed? Just after taking this, huge raindrops started falling and we continued on to the end of the Petrified Forest. The temperature dropped to 45° (F)
Perfect in Pensacola
In spite of the constant pollen levels, and yes, I am still weeping and atch-oo’ing, the weather here couldn’t be much prettier. It’s the kind of weather where you never have to think about a coat, it’s balmy. The humidity is relatively low, low for Pensacola, and the nights have been down in the 50’s, so the A/C doesn’t kick on at all. You wake up refreshed, you can take a cup of coffee out on the back patio and sit and watch the birds come to the feeder, the bees sample the guara and the aloe, and fertilize the blueberries.
Our pomegranates have blossoms! One of the best things we ever did was to put in the pomegranate tree; this year we will add a Meyer’s lemon tree and a Satsuma, two trees which do well in Pensacola. We have a sheltered part of the yard where our yard coach/advisor/ landscaper thinks they will do well over the years. Even with my allergies, I can’t resist a daily walk around the yard to see how things are doing, what AdventureMan is up to now. His Purple Hyacinth is thriving, and we hope to cover a good section of the back wall with it.
(Our purple hyacinth is still just beginning; this is what we want it to look like)
All in all, life is sweet when the temperatures are mild, the humidity low, and the family nearby.
When we were down at the Pensacola Pier, where the children have a special fountain to play in, who should show up but Batman:
Batman doesn’t drive a Batmobile, he drives a big black truck. It’s kind of cute, some grown man pretending to be a superhero, but in the light of the recent Zimmerman / Trayvon Martin shooting, self-appointed super heros are a little scary. Knowing that in Florida, so many people are carrying guns in scary. No, I don’t feel better protected. My friends all say “but all the criminals have guns, we just want to protect ourselves.” Statistics show that you are more likely to be killed by a weapon when you are carrying a weapon.
If you read the newspapers, whether you are in Kuwait, or Kenya, or Florida, or anywhere in between, the criminals seem to shoot themselves in the foot. They take a stupid chance and get caught. Their own arrogance catches them up. They feel unstoppable, and they take risks they think they can get away with. Most criminals get caught, eventually, tripped up by their own pride. So to me, when you go up against a person who is not that rational, you can’t count on a weapon. A weapon can just get you into trouble. You need to use guile; live to fight another day. I trust that a criminal will get caught eventually. I don’t want to die going up against one.
Misery
There is no dignity in going around with red-rimmed, weepy eyes, tissue in hand to wipe my running nose, sneezing. It is pure misery, but I am not sick, there are things I need to do. Whatever is in the air is making me miserable.
Maple, Oak and Cedar/Juniper . . . I am surrounded by oak trees . . .
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