3379.
It was April when Ole Red met his unfortunate demise, which took a couple of weeks to figure and then a few more days to process and accept.
The total check, it will be recalled, went toward acquiring Ole Red's successor: Olivia, Our Little Yellow VeeDubya. She's a cutie pie, as has been confirmed and recorded, and she now gets me to and from my work.
The last piece of a gestalt puzzle was finally given me this morning with a molten gold sunrise which compelled me to pull over on NE 122nd Avenue in front of Rossi Farms, as is the proper protocol, to snap an atmospheric view of the grand volcano to our east.
It looks very much like a summer sunrise, although it's a few days past Vern and his old equinox.
The reason we've not snapped anything like this since Olivia came to live with us is because, despite the clear and hot weather of late August/early September, the mornings have tended to diffuse the sunlight all over, leaving the peak nearly invisible in the glare.
But today, the air was most kind and generous, and seemed to be made of gold. Just me, the sunrise, all the people on NE 122nd Avenue, and my friend, the green lens flare.
Here's more of a panoramic view:
Oregon does sunrises right. With a mountain like that on the horizon, you know you're in the right place.
The total check, it will be recalled, went toward acquiring Ole Red's successor: Olivia, Our Little Yellow VeeDubya. She's a cutie pie, as has been confirmed and recorded, and she now gets me to and from my work.
The last piece of a gestalt puzzle was finally given me this morning with a molten gold sunrise which compelled me to pull over on NE 122nd Avenue in front of Rossi Farms, as is the proper protocol, to snap an atmospheric view of the grand volcano to our east.
It looks very much like a summer sunrise, although it's a few days past Vern and his old equinox.
The reason we've not snapped anything like this since Olivia came to live with us is because, despite the clear and hot weather of late August/early September, the mornings have tended to diffuse the sunlight all over, leaving the peak nearly invisible in the glare.
But today, the air was most kind and generous, and seemed to be made of gold. Just me, the sunrise, all the people on NE 122nd Avenue, and my friend, the green lens flare.
Here's more of a panoramic view:
Oregon does sunrises right. With a mountain like that on the horizon, you know you're in the right place.
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