Sacramento, the City of Trees, takes on a special glow when the leaves turn yellow, red and hues in between. This week the color is at its peak. Still, the show doesn’t rival that of the East Coast where I grew up. But I’d rather be in California with warm days and plenty of sunshine than in icebox conditions on the other side of the country.
While I was taking these photos, a red-tailed hawk flew over about 100 feet above me. Neighbors say a hawk swooped down on a backyard chicken yesterday. This bird is about 2,000 feet away from one of California’s busiest freeways.
Here are my labels: grandfather, father, veteran, writer, poet, photographer and dreamer in pursuit of the meaning of life. Getting close, although I'm running out of time--probably why I'm so close.
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