Terrible picture, but nice memory: Daisy enjoying her glowing fan toy in the car. We love riding in the car together; it's one of the reasons we love to go on road trips. Our kids are good travelers.
Idaho. Non-native baby in a field of grass.
A bystander joins the baby. What is going on here?
Aha.
Yum!
Sam didn't intend to take a picture of this sign, but I find it funny. Should I be afraid of overfeeding this baby?
Somehow, wherever we go, someone ends up staring enthralled into the elevator shaft.
Matching bright-eyes
And another one!
The leaves on all the trees weren't out yet, but there was a subtle Northwestern-y green cast to everything. I love the sunlight illuminating the moss on the branches of this tree.
It is quite hard, apparently, to take pictures of fish in aquariums. (Aquaria?) However, I must show you my favorite fish:
This guy, with the lips
And this guy, with the nose.
And most of all this serene little fishy. She gazed intently into the glowing water and made gentle mopping-mouth fish noises at her fellow fish. SO cute.
Springtime Space Needle
There was one historical site our boys wouldn't let us miss. Every bridge we crossed from Utah to Washington, someone would ask, "Is this Galloping Gertie?" So it was worth the slight diversion out of Tacoma (and the toll), to see the Tacoma Narrows Bridge (Galloping Gertie's former site, as I'm sure you know). The only thing better would have been to dive into the river and see the wreckage.
I loved the flower market on Pike Street---so many colors and in such abundance!
We saw, and gave extensive comment on, many windmills on the drive. Here they are documented for Sebby's sake (have I mentioned that Sebby loves windmills? He does).
Homeward bound. Our desert has its own beauty. I have to hunt for it whenever we drive home from more exotic locales, but it's there.
Hmmm. Hard to remember all the commentable things as the pictures have disappeared, and can't be used for reference. Let's see. Yes. Loved the baby in the field. And the story of the fountain was quite clear, thank you. I can only feel sympathy for the protagonist, though I have never been tempted to pull of my pants to get into a fountain. I'd do it with them on, and wear the jammies later. The FISH. The nose one looks like a Jim Christensen painting, for heaven's sake. And yes, I too look hard for our beauty. There was a time when it was clear to me - maybe the first of the three thousand times I drove across the desert to LA - I was struck with the strength, the suggestion of endurance and determination of our landscape. And the light that comes in angles when the sun is new or old. But nothing will ever make up to me the decades of no rolling grassy hills. I was made for Ohio or Wales or somewhere not so gray and brown. Still - here I is, and they will simply plant me when the time comes -
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