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.