Balancing rocks

There seems to be a lot of these things around here.

This one, though, appears to have been placed there. It's in a Prescott residential area and I think the developer "placed" it there.

Still . . . it's impressive. Especially, probably, to the guy whose house is directly below it!

More Weird Art

You've all read my writings about the BRD (Beautiful Rich Daughter). Here's a picture taken today of her and her beau.

But about her taste in art. Here are some photos of her back yard. As you can see, she's fond of "gazing balls". But if you look at the lower part of the first photo, you'll also see some bowling balls. She started buying them at yard sales a few years ago. Some she half-buried in her yard and told people they were growing there. Now, they just lie on the surface.

Meantime, one of her twin dogs just watches with curiosity.

Mayer Daze

Took a drive down the road to Mayer today where the locals are celebrating Mayer Daze (Days). I got there just in time for a typical small-town parade. Lots of military . . .

The Pony Express riders . . .

A small motorized cart pulling a wagon with rider . . .

Motorcycles . . .

Lots of horses, including this Clydesdale . . .

A local bagpiper . . .

Pretty girls on horses . . .

Representatives of the Sheriff's office (who look like they've had a few too many doughnuts) . . .

Some miniature donkeys . . .

With all these equines, there have to be pooper-scoopers . . .

A shoot-out near the bank . . .

Some wild women of the west . . .

And more motorized vehicles . . .

After the parade, a stroll around town found a beautiful turkey . . .

A llama . . .

And a chance to get a close-up look at that Clydesdale's hooves.

All in all, a pleasant day in Mayer.

Surf's down!

Watson Lake.

The Granite Dells.

Blue sky and a very calm day. Not even a ripple on the water.

Of course, if this boulder rolled down into the water, there might be some waves, for a time.

I often wonder about the perched boulders around these parts. How did they get there? What keeps them from toppling? I guess weight and gravity answer the last question but I'm still wondering about the first one.

As always, the photos are bigger if you click on them.

A visit

We had a good visit this week from our friends, Tom and Lana, from California. I've known them for nearly 40 years, since Tom and I worked together at a radio station in Indianapolis. That period lasted less than three years but it formed a friendship that has lasted all these years.

While showing them around our area, I got a chance to snap a few pictures. Here are a couple I took on the courthouse square in Prescott of the statue dedicated to the memory of "Bucky" O'Neill. Taking the photos from different sides of the statue shows the different effects one can achieve.

The next one shows one of the most photographed sites in Arizona . . right up there with the Grand Canyon. It's a distant view of the mountains at Red Rock Crossing, which turns up in many western movies of the past.

Happy Birthday, Pete!

Folk singer Pete Seeger will be 90 years old tomorrow. And he's still singing, playing his banjo and speaking out as an activist.

I had the great good fortune to see him and Arlo Guthrie together in concert in Phoenix many years ago. He (they) were great!

Pete is one of my heroes.

Happy Birthday, Pete, and I hope you have many more.

My Sweet Love

I think I've posted these pictures before. Fairly recently. But tonight, Jazz was back in my lap, enjoying the warmth, and I thought I should write about her.

She is my love slut.

Nearly any time I sit down in the chair in my den she is soon in my lap. Especially if I have the Mexican blanket across my legs. It's getting too warm now for the blanket but still she comes.

She is my lover.

She looks at me with her large green eyes, wondering . . . what is he thinking?

Does he love me as I do him?

I wonder, too. What does a cat think? Does it think like we, as humans, do? Does it SEE, as we .. like humans..do. I have heard not. I wonder, as she lies upside down, staring at me, what she sees.

I wonder . . . does she love me as I think she does?

SWMBO brought her home from the animal pound a few years ago. She said Jazz was not pretty, not near as pretty as the other cats. But she seemed so grateful for her attention that she couldn't resist her.

I have always defended Jazz. I think she is beautiful. Perhaps she has heard me and appreciates my love for her. She has seemed to me for these few years to have responded with love for me.

My sweet Jazz.

My love.