Do you see what I see?

At lunchtime, I checked the temperatures outside and decided it was cool enough - I had to drag my *lazy* butt out of my chair and go walking. I started out of the building and to the corner to head down Bernal Rd. The farmers cows were kitty-corner to the building, all trying to pack their big behinds under two small trees and still leave room for the new season of recently born calves. The little ones are a cute and curious bunch alright, but, not curious enough to approach humans. I went down the road, observing the grasses and what little greenery is still left. Our rainfall is at 60% of normal and the hillsides are browning prematurely. The new growth of spring is stunted and you can see where the dead growths of last year have the new growth of this year growing in between. It's like looking at a picture of the same person at infancy and in senior years. It was really quite an odd thing to view. As I got around the first corner past the gate, I heard a familiar buzzing. It was quite puzzling at first as it was not the roar of the planes that constantly fly overhead since we are in the flight path of San Jose airport. It was not the hum nor rumble of someones car about to come around the corner. I stopped and realized it was across the street yet very close. There was a tree with thousands of tiny yellow blossoms and the honey bees had it covered. I sat on the fence next to me, and as I watched, I could see the individual bees floating around, taking care of bee business. Then the roar of planes and the rumble of cars interrupted my peace and tranquility, so I decided to move on. Around the next corner, a wild turkey is on the slope of the hill below me. She's alone at the moment, not being chased by a puffed up male tom. Down the road, I crossed to the other side and noticed that wonderful purple grass that is so unique to this area. I picked a stalk, full of seed heads on the end. The color is brilliant in the sun; a red-violet color that is quite indescribable. At the joint of the stalk, I pulled off a layer of the skin and saw it was golden underneath. If you run your fingers along the stalk, it is smooth from root to end, and rough from end to root, just like a strand of hair. The seeds were substantial, strong, and a beautiful melody of beige and voilet coloring. I carried it for a while, eventually tugging at each seed and tossing it along the trail I found myself walking. Above me on the hill, a dead oak tree. I believe it had a Black-shouldered Kite sitting on top, a stark white in comparison to the dead, dark wood. I came to a fork in the trail; there were 3 ways to go. I had been on the trail to the left and the center, but never the trail on the right. It was more of a trail created by the wildlife, wide enough for only one to travel as opposed to the other trails I could have chosen, made by tire tracks. I took the new, narrow trail since I knew it headed back to the road I needed to return to work. It would make a perfect loop instead of walking and then turning around. By then, I had tugged off all of my purple grass seeds and I was admiring the bare stalk until I got caught on a branch I passed and I lost it. I traveled back up the hill to return to work and noticed the beige grasses. Their seeds are in an amazing transformation and once out of the seed pod, you can see the tiny, copper-golden hairs on each one. As I neard the entrance gate, I looked to my left and saw that I had come upon one of our local black-tailed jackrabbits, sitting in the grass, just outside of his hiding bush. I said hello, he watched me walk by, and surprisingly he never ran off. Nice to know he didn't see me as a threat and waste his energy high-tailing it outta there. I love to see the rabbits; I thanked him and told him that he made my day. It was a great day for a walk.