Salvage job.

May 1, Solvang, California.

Yesterday there were only two shows and Fridman and I left for the next town at 8 instead of 11 PM or more when we have the usual three shows. The trip was short, only about 73 miles from Los Osos down to Solvang, so we arrived at only 9:30 PM.
It felt wonderfully early, as we usually don't arrive until one AM or later the next day. It felt as if we had been granted an extra night to enjoy. The luxury: after Fridman was done helping Jim park the circus we watched another episode of The Sopranos, our addiction of the moment.

I noticed when I parked the trailer a bunch of bright orange wild flowers jutting out like a proud wedding bouquet a few feet away, incongruous and lonely among the field of weeds. Before long the flowers were trampled by the next trailer arriving on the lot so I grabbed a pair of scissors and went out to cut a few strands, trying to arrange the others in the hope they would survive this motorized assault and prop themselves back up in the morning to proclaim their fiery glory once again. Then the next trailer arrived, and the next, and the next. Suddenly realizing the imminence of the flowery annihilation, I ran out to salvage what could be, dashing out between the looming trailers, a woman with a mission.
This morning the flowers were wide open and seemed even brighter.
In Los Osos I made transplants of the big pink flowers covering the hill behind us, griffes de la reine as they are called in French.
My circus treats.