Not a lot happening

I've been quiet.  I am not sure why.  Perhaps my life has been boring.  Perhaps I have had my eyes closed.  Perhaps I have grown accustomed to the inane world we live in and can no longer see another way.


That's a butte.  They happen when a hard caprock errodes slower than the layers underneath, protecting the soft underlayer and leaving us with odd little hills.   Larger versions of this are called Mesas.  Smaller, hoodoos.