I went for a walk in the Weaver Mountains yesterday
with my true love.
This would make for a prickly valentine.
As did the luscious fruit
when I ate a small piece and got a tiny hair-fine spine in my tongue.
So nice to have this remote high desert place with a rarely used gravel two track within a mile of home.
We didn’t walk alone.
Made up of granitic plutons exposed to the surface by the power of erosion over time.
There are 4-9 acre lots for sale here that are priced sky high.
But ya’ gotta’ have a dream.
We walked up to a different lot than last time.
What a grand view of Congress in the valley about 2000 feet (609.6 m) below,
and beyond perhaps 60 miles (96.5 km).
It may not be like looking into the Grand Canyon but from this vantage will do for a while.
Our return walk followed a dry wash where the old yet recent flows of water revealed its erosive power.
It was a beautiful sunny afternoon for a walk in the high desert Weaver Mountains yet the bright ornament-like galls on this oak reminded me of Christmas coming.