Next time I will have to get some pictures as I fly into or out of Palm Springs. From above you see myriad little oases. Green blocks with fountains and pools and palm trees.
I borrowed this picture of the airport:
Much of the concourse is open-air, and the architecture is stunning.
The oleanders dividing the spaces are in full bloom.
I tried to capture an unusual (to me) bird that was flitting around the tree in Mom's yard, but lacked Tom's extreme lens. It was only slightly bigger than a hummingbird. From song and color tentatively identified as a Yellow Warbler.
Goodbye, little desert house. See you in October.
Many of the natives were driving 40 mph in the slow lane with their flashers on.
Clear and beautiful in the San Joaquin Valley in contrast to our last trip through in November. Sometimes the air needs a good cleaning.
Mount Shasta peeks through the trees. Her base was shrouded with cloud.
Now that Mom is home, we will have a Memorial Service for Dad on May 5th. Mom has a well-written obituary to publish which I will ask for permission to post.
(And thanks to Mom for handling the photo-documentation while I was driving.)