Even at the Doctor's...

...there's still something to photograph. First the quick report -- the reason I've had to cozy up to the O2 machine almost continually the past couple of weeks is that I seem to have a touch of pneumonia. So I'm on a short course of antibiotics. We'll see how it goes. However, I was able to take advantage of the visit to photograph a few of the water colors painted by the doctor's mother.

What I like about this lady's work is how she evokes a rural western past that has long since disappeared. My grandparents were a part of that world -- yet even they were gradually separating themselves from it. Town mice, not country mice (even though my California grandfather still kept a cow.) My mother and father were of the generation that made the break with the rural past complete.

Not many would put a milkweed pod front and center of a landscape!

A more recent addition to the waiting room walls is this series of old tractors. None, I note, with caterpillar treads, like my Phoenix grandfather drove along the side of Baseline road so that he wouldn't hurt the blacktop.

And, finally, an old auto, abandoned along with a way of life. Reminds me of reading William Least Heat Moon.