There I was . . .
last Sunday morning . . . an old woman walking slowly downhill after chugging uphill for half-an-hour, pulling out my phone to snap pictures of some wondrous sights. I was on my routine Sunday morning walk (the only day of the week I choose to take city streets instead of the paved trail by the river) . . . and it's always fun to notice nature's changes, despite its being an urban corridor. Today not only did I stop to watch a chunky spider weaving its web between a lamp post and a fence (probably it isn't there even just a few hours later) but noticed these amazing colorful and textured organisms. I didn't touch or reposition anything.
There I was . . . last Sunday morning . . . an old woman walking slowly downhill after chugging uphill for half-an-hour, pulling out my phone to snap pictures of some wondrous sights. I was on my routine Sunday morning walk (the only day of the week I choose to take city streets instead of the paved trail by the river) . . . and it's always fun to notice nature's changes, despite its being an urban corridor. Today not only did I stop to watch a chunky spider weaving its web between a lamp post and a fence (probably it isn't there even just a few hours later) but noticed these amazing colorful and textured organisms. I didn't touch or reposition anything.
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