Today I'll show you several pictures I took of strange things in the sky over the Central Highlands of Arizona. The first couple may not be "in focus". Blame it on the Catalyst.
This first one is a fuzzy pink cloud blob as sunset was nearing one recent day.
I think it kind of looks like a cotton ball.
If cotton balls were pink.
Or orange.
Oh well, onward.
These are the Black Hills of Arizona, underneath a colorful but stormy looking sky.
And, yes, they really are called the Black Hills, just like the much more famous ones in South Dakota, though I don't think most people around here actually call them that.
More likely Mingus Mountain, which is really kind of a misnomer because that's only one peak in the range, which also includes Windchute Mountain.
And maybe others.
(See what I learned from reading maps?)
At any rate, Mingus is the highest point at a little over 7,800 feet.
My friend, Tim (Timmer), who lives in Colorado, would call that a hill.
But there's a great view of the Verde Valley from the top.
And there's a take-off ramp for daredevils who fly hang gliders down to the valley below.
But back to the pictures.
This next one is even in focus.
Well, it's sort of in focus.
I love this type of sky.
Do you know what it's called?
Everybody from Bing Crosby to Willy Nelson has recorded this song but I've always been partial to the guy who wrote it (with Jack Brooks).
Two solemn young men at the headwaters of the Mississippi River.
I can nearly hear it now.
"Go stand on that wet rock in the middle of that creek.
And don't fall in!"
Ah, yes, got to get that picture for posterity.
Dad was beaming.
Mom was nervous to the point of panic.
The scene is Lake Itasca, in northern Minnesota, generally believed to be the origin of the Mississippi River.
From here it grows and flows 2,340 miles (3,770 kilometers) to the Gulf of Mexico.
Wikipedia states: The channel of the Mississippi as it emerges from the lake was bulldozed in the 1930's by the Civilian Conservation Corps to create a more "pleasant experience" for visitors. The project included the draining of the surrounding swamp, the digging of a new channel, and the installation of a man-made rock rapids. Wading across the rapids in bare feet is a popular recreational activity for summer tourists.
So there were my brother and I enjoying our "pleasant experience".
I haven't said much about our Thanksgiving Day this year but it was wonderful. Very quiet day of feasting with the BRD as our only guest. We started with those goldfish crackers, in tribute to Julia Child. (If you missed that reference, go back and read Wednesday's post.) Some fine wines, courtesy of the BRD. The main entree was a bacon-wrapped, stuffed pork tenderloin. Actually two tenderloins wrapped around the sausage and cornbread and other breads stuffing. Exquisite. Lots of good conversation, dining and family conviviality. I heard from my friend, Baseball Steve, early in the day that he and his lovely wife, Debbie, were preparing to feed and entertain somewhere between 32 and 36 family and friends! I couldn't imagine tackling that but he said the next day that it all went well and there weren't even any arguments or fights all day. Amazing! I was interested in hearing from a number of friends of the variety of dinner choices people had made. From our pork tenderloin to grilled lobsters to grilled steaks to chicken to slow cooker turkey breast to deep fried turkey. Quite a variety and I'm sure everything was tasty. Surprisingly I got no decent pictures of our food from that day. But I did sneak what I consider one of my best pictures ever of our guest.
Her hair has turned white over the years but I think it makes her more beautiful than ever.
And that's why I call her the BRD - the Beautiful Rich Daughter.
