My favorite Zen tree dominates the foreground in this picture from my hike this morning with Django. The local mountains took a waxing down to about 5,000 ft., our first good snow of the season. I love this time of year. Django is bouncing off the trails, rejoicing in the cool splendor of it all. My semester grinds on, papers growling in the corner, demanding, sneering--Read me! Read me! Can I bear another dangling modifier, another comma splice, another garbled sentence that leaves me reaching for a 40-ouncer of Scotch? The hike has put me in a good mood, so I'll soldier on, as we all must. Three weeks to the end. Can such things be? The silent snows of the Tehachapis aren't saying. Django, however, heartily approves:
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