This picture, taken August 1969, is presumably somewhere out West. I don't know where it is or the story behind the picture (family road trip?), but maybe I'll do a little painting or a pastel of the landscape. My obsession of the moment, the West or Wests or what have you, is manifesting itself in my reading habits: I reread Wallace Stegner's Angle of Repose, then devoured Marking the Sparrow's Fall (a collection of his essays), and now I'm wading into J. S. Holliday's The World Rushed In: The California Gold Rush Experiment. So very much to read, and only finite hours in which one's eyes can stay fixed on the page!