On my way to the post office the other day, I pass by Railroad Park in the center of town. It's looking so pretty, I decide to come back after my errands are done.
It's a small and narrow park in the middle of town, with the railroad on one side and main street on the other. The water tower anchors Railroad Park at its western end.
Along the railroad tracks, red berries grow on bushes that cover the fences.
I hope for a train, but none comes.
The tall trees are are magnificent, as their leaves begin to turn. I back away and take a few pictures.
Then I just have to point my camera to the ground and hope I can convey the beauty I see there.
Of course, I can't help myself and aim upwards. But the trees are tall and so dense, the picture doesn't come out as well as I hope.
In a town where the wind constantly blows, nothing happens here. Having a patriotic moment, I stand and I wait, and wait, for the US and the California flags to fly with the wind, in unison. Nothing happens for the longest time, then our California flag, with its grizzly bear (no longer found in the state) cooperates, while the Stars and Stripes, I guess just doesn't feel it.
