The Bluebirds of Happiness...

... and the Purple Foot of Despond.

The first time I ever saw a bluebird and the first time I ever broke a toe--all in the same action-packed day. We were hurrying to get ready to go to the fabulous Filoli Gardens when I whacked my foot on a strategically misplaced carton on the closet floor. Happens all the time, right? It was a little sore so I grabbed some ice to apply in the car, and arnica cream, and shoes with a roomy toe box and off we went. The gardens were lovely, albeit a little between seasons, but a wall of espaliered apple and pear trees in bloom went a long way, accompanied by dripping wisteria, fields of forget me nots, a friendly resident peacock, and a stunning layout of shrubbery. I wandered about, sitting every once in awhile to admire the landscape and rest my foot. Fast forward a few hours, back in the car, and I remove my shoe. Yikes! A trip to urgent care, and indeed, it is a lightly broken toe: ice, elevate, arnica. Stay off it if it hurts. And wear the Lovely Boot, which I don't think helps, but it lends an air of clumsiness and futility. Not the worst thing in the world, for sure, but my walking regime is kinda out the window right now, and too bad: I was so proud of my three miles. 

The peacock is a story all by itself--he's "wild", but totally used to people, and quite a display artist. At first glimpse, you rush (limpingly) across the yard--a peacock! fanning his tail! hurry, you might miss it!  Well, he just won't quit, parading around for everyone, flashing his colors with a peculiar whirring accompaniment, turning, posing, carrying on. He wore out group after group of photographers. The close-ups of his amazing face and plumage look like they're made of glass--in fact I have a Christmas ornament that looks just like him.  What a day, what a day!