Snow day

Sunday we drove to Mount Diablo to see the snow that had fallen during Saturday night's storm -- and yes, I mostly restrained myself from making snide comments about “real” snow, because it was a beautiful day, if cold enough to make even my jaded New York teeth chatter, and the dusting of snow was a lovely garnish.

Here are some cows outside the park. That figure on the right that appears to be some kind of pied piper leading them into bovine mischief is actually a tree that's lost its crown and most of its branches.

Two views of the Cuillin hills

Local legend has it that the name Cuillin comes from Cuchulain, the legendary Irish hero, about whom Yeats wrote many of his less interesting poems.

Cuchulain stirred,
on the horses of the sea, and heard
The cars of battle and his own name cried;
And fought with the invulnerable tide.

Ireland sent saints and heroes to Scotland, along with her thick and thorny language, which the Scots, God bless them, have made even more incomprehensible.

I think you can tell the morning photo from the one taken in the afternoon without my having to spell it out.

California hills

The hills of Marin behind the beach in the light of early evening.