Have you ever heard a donkey bray?

Yesterday I drove up to Volcano, CA... and then further up to Daffodil Hill. I wanted to take some pictures of the beautiful valley of daffodils and its surroundings before the rain and snow arrived today.
I thought the park was open... but it wasn't. Luckily, the caretaker said I could walk around and take some photos as long as I didn't walk out on the slippery trails. It's was an insurance thing. I was fine with that so I stuck close to the barnyard and gravel areas.
It was overcast and cold, but I got some great photos.

The daffodils were shivering in the cold wind and I didn't get many good photos of the thousands of flowers that were blooming.

 This was one section of "the hill" where they have  planted daffodils.

And looking up into this small valley I remembered what William Wordsworth wrote .

I though of his words...

"I WANDER'D lonely as a cloud
That floats on high o'er vales and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host of golden daffodils,
Beside the lake, beneath the trees,
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze."

"They flash upon that inward eye
Which is the bliss of solitude;
And then my heart with pleasure fills,
And dances with the daffodils."

Have you ever heard a donkey bray? It is truly a "He (breath in) ha(breath out), he ha, he ha." only very high pitched and loud. They knew that the care taker had given me some bread (for another reason) and they wanted some too. The horse was quieter about it. He just waited and watched.

Because, it seems, the donkeys are the ones who "put on the show"

... and they did.

They are real attention getter's.

I wanted to take this one home with me.

The really reason for the bread was to attract these birds.

This is a Peacock.

 A beautiful pure white one.

And the more traditional ones.

I was told to throw small pieces of bread and call out, "Pretty bird."

It worked like magic. 

These birds were conditioned to follow the bread.

They came to me like I was a Pied Piper.

And then a huge male arrived...

...in all his glory.

He was magnificent!

When I threw some bread at him, he chased the others away and then he gave me a special performance.

I was honored. Not being a peacock... I wondered if this was just for a piece of bread or did he , because this was mating season, look at me as... well, you know.

Later, when I was in my car, changing lenses, he appeared again.

Is this one of the most beautiful birds in existence?

This time he wasn't that interested in me. He had his eye on a female pea hen in the garden.

and off he went to pursue her.

When he came back to the driveway he gave me one more "dance"...

 He "Do see do'ed".

He turned around , spread his feathers and looked at me as if he was the PRINCE of his kingdom.

He surely was. No doubt about it.

Finally, I said goodbye to the donkeys.

 And the beautiful horse.

I got into my car and drove about a mile down the road to a friend's house.
We lived up here for three years before we built our house, down near the river, in Jackson.

(This is part of her backyard with its little Lowe's potting shed in it.) 

She fixed me lunch and we had tea together. We talked about all kinds of things...gardening, quilting, husbands, women stuff... you know... and how the years seemed to go by so fast since we were neighbors.  We talked about the good times and the bad... and "Where did all those years go?"

And then I had to leave.

 I drove home and passed the school, in Pine Grove, where I first got a job, and then drove west, down highway 88, as I had done for so many years.
This is beautiful country up here. We came when we were 50 years old. It was hard to leave the town we raised our boys in and the friends that we knew, but we had a "vision".

 We wanted to live in the "Gold country". 

We wanted property, forty acres with a gold mine (yes, we have one!) and a place where we could find a rivers and creeks to pan for gold, swim in and enjoy "mother nature". 

We wanted peace, clean air and a place for our children and grandchildren to come when the world became too hectic.

We found it.

 We have been here almost eighteen years, now, and a lot has happen. 

We should have built a bigger house but... oh well.

I have few regrets.

I love this place. 

It's my home.