The planets seemed to align for me on Thursday morning when the steady rain stopped just before I hit “publish” on my last post of unintelligible nothingness, and a Noon appointment I had was changed to 1 PM, thus allowing me to squeeze in a 3-mile hike at Deerfield Park. There was much rejoicing.
The last slug I saw was eating scat.
Despite having an extra hour to get my hike in, I still needed to hustle, which meant I didn’t take many photos along the way. Still, I did get my hiking/lumbering mileage on the week up to 16 miles and counting. Once again, I finished a hike looking like the walking definition of a sweaty fat white guy or, in scientific lingo, “Perspirationus Obeseus Caucasianal Homo Erectus Flacidus.”
In lock down.
I expected the mosquitos to be out in force, but aside from my hairy earholes being strafed now and then by over-eager bloodsuckers looking to make a direct hit on my Death Star’s main reactor, it was pretty bug-less. Of course, I was also sprayed down with enough bug spray to protect a small army.
…OK…I will.
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I have to many of these shots. Yet here we are.
Hope to add to the mileage over the weekend in between watching the ton of footy that is on and drinking some tasty IPAs. Cheers!
Camo is always on point.
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Afternoon snoozin’.
Later.