My eyes itched.
My nose ran.
If I'd had a sheet of sandpaper, I would have reached it down my throat and
scratched, scratched, scratched.
Yet there I stood yesterday morning,
frozen with fascination,
as one tree after another in the Hollow before me exploded,
sending smoke billowing from the treetops,
adding to the haze already veiling the ones in the distance.
Like one of those weathermen I chide for reporting from the middle of a hurricane,
I stood surrounded by junipers loaded down with tiny yellow bombs which could detonate with the slightest gust of wind,
but I couldn't resist snapping just one more photo,
hoping to catch that first second of explosion.
a close-up of the arsenol
On the plus side, my mom is here visiting (I'm keeping her in the house!),
I saw George Strait in person Friday night for the very first time,
and I reunited with some of my former co-workers /current friends from those DuPont days of my youth in Houston on Tuesday.
I hope you have a great, allergy-free Sunday!
