Well, here we go again. Hubby Neil and I went for a walk around the neighborhood this Sunday afternoon.
What an awesome day! The wind was cold and biting again this time around, but the sunshine sure did feel good.
Found object--a big metal washer laying in the road by the sidewalk. Don't ask me why I feel compelled to pick up such stuff and stick it in my pocket, but I do. Hope nobody needs it cause it's not there any more.
A little shadow play on a neighbor's fence.
We enjoy walking down this little side road that's part dirt and gravel and part pavement. We live less than a mile from the courthouse square, but walking here makes me feel like I'm out in the country.
That's our little brown house way up yonder.
Hubby Neil, moi, and Neil's walking stick for this trip around. He collects them and always carries one when we walk. You never know when you might be attacked by a mad dog or a wild possum or bear or something. Good to have a weapon, I guess.
Flowering trees are already flowering around town. Too early, but what can you do. Not sure what this one is, but it was pretty against the blue sky and puffy white clouds.
Looks like the irises along this old stone wall are next in line to sprout.
Found object number 2--little red chain laying on the sidewalk outside the elementary school. Guess I'll add it to my weird little found object collection.
The need to keep the wind off my ears overrode my hating to wear a hat because I look goofy in one. See, I have the picture to prove it.
I never get tired of taking pictures of the sky. It is ever changing, different every day and sometimes minute to minute.
No escaping the hills in this town and our neighborhood.
From whence we came--gets your heart pumping!
Cutting through the woods...makes the walk shorter. We walked for about 20 minutes. Time to come in out of that cold wind. That's my story and I'm sticking to it.
It was one of those March days when the sun shines hot and the wind blows cold:
when it is summer in the light, and winter in the shade. ~Charles Dickens
