Golden Hour, Blue Hour, City of Mercy
The end of one journey is the start of the next. I'm sure that's a proverb somewhere. If it isn't it ought to be, and I'll claim credit for it because it often describes my life.
I'd barely finished pushing out my last travelog from our trip to Sacramento when Hawk and I left home this evening on our next trip. Of course, the trips themselves didn't run together; we got home from Sacramento 5 days ago. It's just because of my blog backlog (backblog?) that it looks like one trip rolls straight into the next.
Our trip this weekend is to Yosemite National Park. Leaving home after dinner this evening we drove for a few hours to the town of Merced in California's Central Valley.
I'd barely finished pushing out my last travelog from our trip to Sacramento when Hawk and I left home this evening on our next trip. Of course, the trips themselves didn't run together; we got home from Sacramento 5 days ago. It's just because of my blog backlog (backblog?) that it looks like one trip rolls straight into the next.
Our trip this weekend is to Yosemite National Park. Leaving home after dinner this evening we drove for a few hours to the town of Merced in California's Central Valley.