Oh, hello Mister and Missus Stalwart. How lovely of you to be the frame that encompasses your gorgeous surroundings, along with your wee children. If I ever doubt that something can be as lovely as you, standing your ground while making the rest of everything near you more gorgeous I will remind myself of your beauty.
Thanks In Advance For Your Loveliness,
Tina the Trunk Admirer
Calaveras County, California
Hello, stalwart gentlemen. Thank you for acting as the outline of the gorgeous path I am about to meander down. May I say that you all look very handsome, in your Sunday best, standing tall, with chests out, silently pointing the way toward so much beauty.
I love trees that show me the way, don’t you?
Very Truly Yours,
Devil’s Slide Trail, Old Highway 1
It’s not that the trail along the ocean takes your breath away so much. Or that if you turn to the left to see the jutting cliffs twenty feet from where you are standing. It’s that you look down to see this gorgeous dame standing strong and tall leading the minions that surround her. And it takes your breath away.
Trees that telegraph their greatness are my favorites. What about you?
Yours In Holy Moly Posture,
The Tree Kisser
Oak Creek Canyon, Sedona, Arizona
Would you look at her? The glorious yellow number on the left. She graced the property we stayed at while we were in our cabin that had a hard, dangerous, precarious winding staircase that Cooper refused to navigate. I asked her one morning what the heck we should do and she stared at me for a while before gently saying, “Turn off that Thought Circus of yours and carry your boy up and down that magical, unruly set of steps if that’s what you have to do.”
I think trees give the best advice, don’t you?
Yours In Listening Closely,
Sycamore Canyon, Point Mugu, California.
Every single time Mister Cupcake and I ride our bikes back into the farthest reaches of Sycamore Canyon I swear to myself I’ll find these three gorgeous broads and every single time I come within an inch of being heartbroken because I can’t find them—until the very last minute, when I do.
A photograph doesn’t capture their scalawag, brazen quality, really and words can’t describe what it’s like to be near the three of them except for sharing the fact that the middle dame, I’m convinced, is related to Phyllis Diller and the other two lookers are her snappy sidekicks.
I could swear, when I ride past them, I can hear them laughing their asses off, cracking jokes and making the world a better place.
Here’s To a Good Guffaw,
Sara the Snort Giggler