Unintended

I was out looking at the street that runs next to my home. Yesterday the streetsweeper came by and they did a fine job of removing the accumulated pine needles and other debris that my yard deposits everywhere. In vast quantities. For most of my neighbors it isn't a big deal, but when I move in the sweepers had been refusing to sweep my side of the road. I did understand it to some extent, but after I had removed the 11 wheelbarrows full of needles, leaves, and other detritus that were there, I understood much better. Then there was trimming the trees back. They will not sweep close to anything that might scratch the paint job on their precious machine. So I was happy but had not thought to grab the camera when I saw this branch dripping with moisture from the exceptional fog we are having today. It was a found blip when I was in a particularly nice mood. Pleased with the results of the sweep and proud of the accomplishments that got them to sweep my corner pretty thoroughly.

But the dripping spruce also reminded me of San Francisco, which used to be known for its wonderful thick fogs. London type, storied, peasoup fogs that let you discover the city over and over. They don't happen often anymore. It isn't global warming, which might actually help the situation, it is the massive cutting of the Redwood trees for lumber and land to build on. They used to trap the fog and hold it against the coast. They would trap the moisture that fed the fogs on the land. Those magnificent tall trees were actually part of the climate conditions that created the weather in that part of California. Now much drier and more prone to drought that never used to happen. So, here's hoping that the unintended happenings in your part of the world are joyous as an unexpected blip.