Some Enchanted morning...

I had the most amazing time with Steve this weekend. We drove out to Enchanted Rock and it was truly idyllic. The cactii were in full, riotous flower, so much so that they appeared as out-of-place rosebushes set in the middle of a field of cows, brambles, and native grass. One weekend later or one weekend earlier, things would not have been so lush; so utterly wild and paradisical.

We went early, so we were able to get to the top of the batholith and find our own stone recliners. Quiet. Cool breeze. Hazy mountainous vista, and us sitting there with legs splayed and not a care in the world. Aquamarine-colored lizards scuttled by; tender succulents bloomed out of the cracks in the pink granite. High winds rustled in our ears. True, occasional sounds of civilization were there (other people, distant trucks), but they fell onto deaf ears as Steve and I happily lost ourselves in a relaxed, whimsical conversation and the sight of a tiny jumping spider with a bright blue body. We stayed until the midday sun drove us to exlopre further--crevasses and vistas, and eventually, wend our way down the rock back to the car.

Every Saturday morning should be like that.