I'm back, rested and in my right mind. If you can call it that. Because I've been seeing strange things around here.
|Like a cross-eyed chickadee.|
And messages left by a red alder next door, written in discarded male catkins on cement.
|One-armed man threatened by an angry cobra?|
|I can't read this one. Can you?|
Maybe the chickadee has been trying to read the sidewalk.