Braving the icy blast in shirt sleeves

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Everybody is saying it's chilly; it just seems cooler to me. I walked in sandals, shorts, and shirt sleeves.

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There are still a few flowers in people's gardens.

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Two friendly dogs when the gates are open, but I have enough sense not to put my hand through the bars.

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Lots of low light bouncing around and reflecting off the most unlikely objects. The flash was OFF: I checked.

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Far from perfect, but my best attempt at this scene so far.

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I thought this was the time of year when things stopped growing, but it seems not.

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I will not repeat what this horse shouted at me. Nobody has called me that in years.

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Tonight's desert dessert [blush—typo correction] from Deseret: fresh figs from the tree in our garden.

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