Humboldt Bay National Wildlife Refuge poses seductively by Hwy 101 just opposite College of the Redwoods. Last May, I couldn’t resist any longer and wandered along the main trail taking photos and feeling blessed. This is one of my favorite places. I took a folder full of photos but never used any.
Sohumborn tagged me.
- Post the 6th picture in your 6th folder.
- Post that picture on your blog along with the story that goes with it.
Living out in the hills, I’ve grown accustomed to not fitting into neat catagories. When I called the Humboldt Co. agency in charge of addresses a few years ago to find out what our house number was, the woman there got so frustrated, she just told me to pick one.
I don’t much care to follow rules anyway. So, I figured when I couldn’t decide what was my 6th folder was (Do I use Lightroom and go by date, use My Pictures and go by folder??? etc.) I would just randomly select a photo and make up my own story. So…—————————
That 666 was known as the sign of the beast amused Dara. She thought the number looked rather like her three cats sitting at the window staring at birds—poised and predatory but a little fat, out of shape, and harmless. “666 should be the sign of three beasts—three chubby purring little beasts,” she said as she scratched Chairman Miaow alongside his grey chin.
Outside the window, a songbird flitting in her flowers engaged the cats’ interest so she got no more than a half-hearted purr—-though Gandalf stretched and patted the window looking at her hopefully. Knowing they were incapable of catching anything as agile as a bird, she went ahead and opened it. She stared after them as they ambled nonchalantly out into the garden.
Warren Beatty (he was as handsome and vain as his namesake) headed directly at the tiny creature (he wasn’t much for subtlety) while, Gandolf and Miaow pretended to be interested in sunny patches in the path.
- Tag 6 other people that you know or you don’t and challenge them to do the same. Let them know in your blog or by email that they’ve been tagged.
Dara turned to watch one of her neighbors, Sohumborn, walking up the street. “Humboldtia is bored. It’s time for something—anything— to happen.” With a grin, Dara gathered her green hair in hand and her power and sent for magic pictures with stories from
She settled back, watched her cats annoy the songbirds and waited for the magic and the stories. Not all would respond but whoever did would keep the little country amused.