Huxley and I took a walk down to the mailbox today. I gave the UPS guy permission when he dropped off a package last week to just give me a call with future deliveries and leave them on the mailbox. Our driveway is insanely bad right now (more of a 'challenge' than a driveway, really), so driving a big, brown parcel truck up this craggy canyon of a drive is no one's idea of a good time. When resources allow, it's the first thing we intend to repair.
The walk was a splendid one. We live in what's called Hominy Valley, and our driveway begins on Hominy Creek. The Hominy Valley Wildlife Club greets all of our guests on the road to the house and boasts gun shots every Thursday night when the dudes of the valley (I've yet to seen any ladies there) get together for chatting and target practice.
I love walking the property this time of year. There are all of these wild, magnificent berries and the dried flora of summer & autumn provide graphic landscapes of whites and greys. It's also the best time of year to view the creek crossed when you reach the "English 98" sign on our road, as well as the most ideal time to make out the mountain ridge line behind the house.
Huxley dug it, and so did I. Small pleasures.
*If you want to see more from our jaunt (including me looking innocently off camera in my new specs), go here.