I was taking a leisurely stroll around the plaza the other day when an attractive young woman in luminous fuchsia T-shirt and immaculate white jeans came up to me and said, “So there you are!”  She produced a copy of Guacamole Dip and asked me if I would sign it for her. I didn’t have a pen on me and a frantic search through her white purse didn’t produce results. So we stepped into the Diana and borrowed a writing instrument from Abraham bartender/philosopher. I signed, “To Peggy.” It seemed only chivalrous to offer her some form of refreshment and soon we  both had a frosty margarita in front of us. Conversation flowed easily and she asked if it would be possible to walk around the ranch. I looked at her pristine white jeans and she said. “I am not afraid of getting my pants dirty.” It was a short drive and a pleasant hike through the hills. As usual I took my camera. We saw ducks on the lake, rabbits hopping about, squirrels and a couple of orioles. She  pointed up at the sky and said, “Oh my! There must be a hole in your ozone.” I  grabbed the first shot you see below. Peggy was impressed with the huge granite outcroppings that  depending on the light sometimes take the form of giant, birds, whales and monsters. As we came around the bend, she  cried,  “Look! A hippopotamus taking a poop!” Well, we all see different images in these huge boulders. But I took the shot anyway. (The second shot below). You can judge for yourself.


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