Ok, I don't necessarily agree with this picture, but I love it. People are furious about this! I love the sentiment, so nasty. But as an afterthought. Like a neat little capper. I love it.
And I love this. This is the scenery on my commute. That's White Horse Mountain, with Baker peeking up in the back. I almost crash twice a day staring at this gut-wrenching wonder. What really gets me is the barren but awesome sharp, bare peaks. Most of the year these are capped with white, like Baker, but in the summer they are so naked, so jagged, so strong and silent looking. I am overwhelmed by the stretch of time, by the vastness of the world, by the fragility and iron strength. By the sheer wonder of it all. And so I try my very best to not careen through some poor county farmer's cattle pasture as I gape. You'd think, with the sunrise coming later now, it would be too dark to enjoy, thus cutting in half my hazardous driving record. But I saw the sun rise behind the mountain yesterday, with an unholy orange and gold that was so beautiful I nearly gave up the ghost. The pictures I tried to get sucked rocks though, so I'll have to be content with these shots from the afternoon. Good god amighty, do I live in the most beautiful place in the world, or what?
