Tiny red and white blossoms from the trees scatter in front of my windshield in the spring breeze. It’s like being in a multicolored snowstorm when it’s 80 degrees outside. Fallen blossoms pile up to kickable depths on the sidewalks, just like the leaves did in fall. I keep finding blossoms on my carpet that have ridden home with me in the tread of my athletic shoes.
I saw a quail today, trotting across the trail near the park. Just one. Where were his pals? I saw mating roadrunners on the same trail a day or two ago. Such a voyeur I turned out to be.
This morning there was a pile of scattered bits of fur beside the trail. A stark reminder that if you let your cats roam the neighborhood they will become coyote kibble. . . .