What a sunset.

I took all of these with my Pentax Kx.

I did compress and re-size them to upload them here.

I made no modifications to them other than compression and size.

Thunder no rain.

Thunder clouds moved in all day with a push here and a shove there. Finally, shoulder to shoulder, they barked out with one voice and woke the dog.  I stepped outside to let my nose beg for a little rain. The answer came swiftly as a dust cloud took residence on my face. So much for free water. Oh good, Rose is back to sleep. Loud clouds these living dirt shrouds who park themselves neatly between my peepers. I think I will curse them and wallow back inside with the other animals. Sleep well everyone, I've got some washing up to do.

Happiness Is.

That feeling that slaps upside the face from inside. That feeling that, when it can, lights up cheeks and ears as if molten cherry topping had accidentally missed the bowl. Breath is lost or somehow misplaced. The slap comes from that place that knows when It's won or been beaten. It knows how the feelings should work and exactly where they go. It finds that chasm or valley or pinprick where a tiny light peeks in and guides the rest home; The flood of blood, and then the sparkle. The breath, once missing, may or may not return but either way is quickly replaced. To know the feeling is to know triumph and defeat. Only a tail tip of control is it master of in the start but what a glorious result, win or lose. I win. She loves me. glow little ears, glow.

Happiness Is.

The love of red licorice; some days only a loaded tub of it's chewy goodness will suffice. Hand over fist is the action when grabbing a bunch of the stuff with ten grubby digits. When all manner of things bad have come and clobbered the swirling gray matter into a mere pate`, only something as potent as licorice can even the odds of surviving the trip home. So cheers is to red licorice and it's mighty, mighty power, when mitts of five-times-two mash into muzzle.