Mooney

I remembered to look for the moon this evening. This is the time of year when the waxing crescent looks like a slightly tilted smile. I just have to smile back at it. The sky turned cerulean around it, and then I heard a flock of trumpeter swans flying south almost directly overhead. It was too dark to see them, even though they sounded as though they were fairly low, but I listened until they were out of earshot.

They must have been visiting the lake northwest of town today. It probably has varieties of vegetation that the valley ponds lack. If I were a swan I'd probably want to get some variety into my diet now and then, too. Having the same kind of salad every day would surely bore me.

On the other hand, I never seem to get tired of oranges. This year's crop has been pretty good. When we had those freezing nights in December and early January, I feared that the oranges that grow in the valley might be damaged, but they have been sweet and juicy all season, and abundant enough to be reasonably priced. Of course I wouldn't want to eat a diet of nothing but oranges, but I do like to have one every day.

Also, I never seem to get tired of beer. In fact I've got a can of Tecate waiting for me in the refrigerator right now, ready to wash down some chipotle-barbecue flavored tortilla chips and sour cream. I just don't feel like cooking any dinner. Lunch was too big, anyway.