Postscript: Happy Irish Day! Drink a car bomb, or two. Hey, what can I say, I like having the ultimate milkshake once a year!

Driving around looking for a good angle of the Hollywood sign brought us to the Griffith Observatory. However, considering our usual Monday luck it was closed, but we walked the grounds and got a substantial view of a smoggy City of Angels.

On the drive back down into the heart of Hollywood, we stumbled across this skinny, but winsome, coyote. It just stood there as we made a u-turn, trotting off a little here and there. It was the first sighting of a coyote in my lifetime and naturally I wanted to get out to get a little closer and pet him; you could call that the naiveté in me.

We arrived at the South Rim of the Grand Canyon just before the break of dawn. With fingers crossed, we got there just in the nick of time to find ourselves, shake off the delirium and get it together for some amazing views as the sun raced slowly above the canyon walls.

It was a godly experience just to see the ever-changing vibrancy of colors continuously altering minute after minute.

Gillette’s Castle sits atop a high hill overlooking the Connecticut River on the outskirts of East Haddam, Connecticut. This impressive, protruding oddity of architecture, which in a way looks like a primitive rock climbing wall, was home to Sherlock Holmes, or the man who acted as such on stage, William Gillette. Dying as a bachelor, the only persons he felt fit to leave his structure to was any…

“blithering sap-head who has no conception of where he is or with what surrounded.”

Those are your old-time thespians, I suppose!

Chris and I, accompanied by Chris’ hometown friend, took our first drive out to the castle at the very peak of the Fall season. Sadly, the leaves have withered, the colors faded, and the trees peacefully sleep once again until next Spring.

The Grand Canyon is the most beautiful sight I have ever seen. It simply takes your breath away. And if you’re susceptible, it can also give you a slight sense of nausea and vertigo (obviously). No matter where I stood, how I mounted my camera or what angle I tried to impose, I still feel there’s no justice in a photograph of the Grand Canyon; you just need to experience it for yourself.

In the featured image, as big as ants are the people sitting out on the precipice. It’s a good diagram of the amazing spatial capacity that surrounds you on the site. In the gallery below, you’ll see a closeup of the same ant people as well as some of my favorites so far. I’ve yet to scour through two-hundred more for the editing.

Chris and I ventured to the Grand Canyon after two flights, on little sleep, immediately followed by a four-hour drive to the national park to arrive at sunrise for optimum photographic value. In the lowest of early morning light, we were dismayed by the temporary construction of a viewpoint thinking we drove all this way for nothing. Overcoming our delirium, we ventured further down the road to find a misty, scuddy, mind boggling abyss. As we approached this giant crevice of the Earth, and as most travelers before us, we were immediately awestruck by its sheer magnitude.

More to come.

And for those like me who are enamored by birds, but don’t know what the hell they are, give the WhatBird site a try – It will blow your mind!

Hay House is an active, year-round farm located in Old Saybrook, Connecticut. It is an eclectic landscape and gathering grounds with it’s leafy arbors, straw bale barns, drying tobacco leaves, kennel of dogs, makeshift enclosures and the first Buddhist Stupa in the state. The farm is maintained by David Brown and his farm manager, Ryan Karb. At this time, they’ve begun preparation for participation in a Summer CSA program and for the season to come.

There is a beautiful, Walt Disney-like tree in my mother’s long and narrow city-suburban hybrid of a backyard. It towers our home and all the others around it at a staggering (and approximate) seventy-five feet. The trunk is roughly eight feet wide and about ten feet high. The leaves morph from green to a purple-ish hue. It is a challenge of a climb. It’s a Copper Beech; a very rare find in New England. There are theories that this species was brought over from Europe where it is naturally derived.

It’s a magical tree. I absolutely love it.

These shots are taken from last year’s archive. I didn’t have the heart to recreate them – I just love the colors in these. This Beech is currently budding. Looking at it one warm afternoon during last week’s stint of fabulous weather reminded me about these captures.

The weather is starting to shape up. People are retreating from their houses, shaking off the cabin fever. We moved into a really nice residential area where you’ll see people ambling about with their dogs. Across the way, there’s a right-of-way to the beach and, to my surprise, the waters are sparkling. Quite a difference coming from only a few minutes down the road. We’re walking the streets of our new digs, daydreaming of the good times to come.