Tomorrow I'll share more puffball photos. You won't believe the haul we made yesterday! I've never seen so many. But I need to wait until the computer is repaired.
Since I've got no photo, I want to mention something I've been thinking about for quite awhile, brought to mind this morning, and doesn't require a photo.
We heard a siren this morning. Out here, JOTOLR, a siren is an odd sound. In the world of TV cities, it seems there are always sirens screaming in the background. Nobody even notices. It's the way of life in urban clusters. But out here, the sound of a siren stops everyone in their tracks. Collectively, we lean on our shovels, listening intently to determine where it's going, what direction it's heading; we crane our neck toward the one-lane road to see if we can glimpse the flashing light and know the color of the vehicle, the lights--red? blue? yellow? We wonder aloud whether it's a fire truck, an ambulance or a sheriff's car, racing toward some disaster. The worst thing is that we'll probably know whoever it is that requested a rescue. Not that one is any more sympathetic with someone known than unknown, but closer to home touches the heart directly. Most of us, out here JOTOLR, consider ourselves pretty self-sufficient. But there are times -- and MM and I have been in a couple--when you simply cannot help yourself and you need to call for those who can. Usually, that call involves the volunteer fire department. And believe me when I say how grateful we have been to see those flashing lights coming in our driveway.
I don't know where the siren went this morning. I finally lost track of it as it took a road that skirts our farm and the sound stopped. I never heard it again. But, someone, somewhere needed help. I am sure they got it. I just hope it was in time.