A silent movie (except for the wind)

I thought you might like to see a bit of my part of Arizona, particularly the changing sky.

Not the Arizona you've read about

Today is a dark and dreary day in the high desert country of Arizona.

 And it's wet.

Definitely not the land of eternal sunshine you've been led to believe in, is it?

Oh well, it will only be a day or two.  Then the sun will come out again.

Togetherness, at last!

Now, I'm not going to make any excuses for having three (count 'em, 3) cats living with us. But I am going to brag some when they all get together without a fight.  You see when Blackwell joined the other two, he brought consternation and a lot of spitting and growling to Jazz.  And, yes, cats can growl.  But this morning, lo and behold, all three of them were stretched out on the same bed.  I was so amazed I had to take photos.

At the foot of the bed is Muggles, with his head hanging over the edge.

 In the middle (and this is the most amazing part of this story) is Jazz.

And, at the far end . . actually the head end . . is Blackwell.  While watchful, he also seems relaxed.

It didn't last long but while it did . . it was truly amazing.

Mag 36

The New Colossus

Not like the brazen giant of Greek fame,

With conquering limbs astride from land to land;

Here at our sea-washed, sunset gates shall stand

A mighty woman with a torch, whose flame

Is the imprisoned lightning, and her name

Mother of Exiles. From her beacon-hand

Glows world-wide welcome; her mild eyes command

The air-bridged harbor that twin cities frame.

"Keep ancient lands, your storied pomp!" cries she

With silent lips. "Give me your tired, your poor,

Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,

The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.

Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me,

I lift my lamp beside the golden door!"

Unfortunately, there is no originality in my brainpan this week.  The poem was written by Emma Lazarus and is engraved on the base of the Statue of Liberty in New York harbor.
 
And, yes, I know it's not necessarily a golden door in the photo but a Dutch door.  So be it.
 
Please look at Willow's Magpie Tales page for some writers with more imagination than this unworthy scribe.

Blackwell's new collar

We are trying to convert Blackwell from being an outdoor cat to an indoor cat.  But that is not an easy task.  Every time a door opens, he makes a dash for it and the outer world.  So, I insisted on a collar and a tag.  He has that now as well as a bell, which he is not happy about.  But the color looks very good on him, I think.

 



Me and my shadow

What a grouchy looking bird!

Mag 35

Halloween candy -


You want Hersheys?

Make it Brachs.



Like my tresses?

Ah . . .

Goldilocks.



Getting cold?

Wooly socks.



Is that a dog?

No, it's a fox.



Like my music?

Yeah, it rocks!



Turn the time back?

Fix the clocks.



Boats at anchor

Near the docks.



We’ve passed the silly season,

So what’s the silly reason?



Ahhhh….

Autumnal Equinox.

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There has to be some better writing at Magpie Tales!  Go there!  Quickly!