Earl, M and I went on a birthday hike in Catoctin Mountain Park yesterday and got happily stuck in a thunderstorm. Once again, I am so incredibly fascinated with the Surrealist games of weather - We drove there with the AC "full blast", and returned with the heater so hot, I had to cover my gas foot with a sock so it wouldn't melt into the pedal. Felt so good. Repeated goosebumps. The lightning was so close, we expected our wet hair to stand on end.
The first photo has a little, forlorn gingerbread man that has fallen down the crevice.
When we got back to Balto, we stopped to get gas, and I was transfixed with the rows and rows of boarded up housing across the street. I considered "Peace in the Middle-East" vs. "Peace in Baltimore". We went gawking down the street and I met Fred who was hopeful and excited about opening a car lot. He said I was a neat guy. Funny because M and I were joking earlier while hiking, that I should get "neat" tatooed on my skin to express my overuse of the adjective.
