I’ve been in Southern California for a long time now and I still can’t get adjusted to the fall season here, or should it be called lack of a fall season. A couple of weeks ago I went out to the front yard to take a couple of pictures of our one tree out there — the real action is out back. What you see below is a ginko tree, not, apparently, given to great size. Only days before I took the shots, the leaves were green. We looked the other way and they all turned yellow. On Monday, half of the yellow leaves had dropped off and I raked them into the street so the street-cleaner guy could pick them up. Today more have fallen and I’ll bet by Saturday we’ll have spindly limbs to look at.

Fall. Front to back. And the rest of the neighborhood is pretty much the same.

To a large extent, that accounts for a season here in the southwest, because in less than three months, most of the new leaves will have re-appeared. But so, the argument goes, that’s why we’re all hanging out in the desert. Rarely a flake of snow, and when it does rain, it does so with a vengeance.

Not that this guy will mind, either way…

…he says, a grabbing a shameless opportunity to flash the latest photo of Archie, or is it his brother, Bruno?

Both swung by for a visit this afternoon and totally charmed everyone. You’ll recall that the settled name was to be Zuul and Gozer, but that was not to be. And the latest iteration? We’ll see. The licenses have not been cut yet. The reason for the new handles has yet to be revealed, but we’re assuming that the last name for one of them is not Bunker.


Check back next week on Wednesday for my breathless Christmas message, which until the electronic age was mailed on foldable paper, suitable, of course, for posting on your refrigerator door. But not this year. This time the Jolly Day gets trendy, and I save a stamp.