Flew from the drizzly tail of Hurricaine Isabella, to the permisunny light of Southern California. Uncle Joe rented an industrial backhoe for the occasion. Sliding across black packed sand-dirt flecked with mica, he taught me how to raise the bucket, drop the arm and scoop up gravel, mulch, manure and more.



We dug out holes for trees. And in ten years time, when convelescing in their dappled shade, he can rub his whiskered chin and remind his aged Labrador, "Me and my buddy Pete planted those!"



Creating magic, listening to coyotes cackle and the rooster roar at Sterling Oaks Ranch.