Earlier this week, at 12:35 P.M. on Tuesday, there was a brief power outage. Drat! All the clocks and timers to re-set, each with a different system.
Then on Thursday ... my helper bee, at my request, dug a $10 hole for transplanting two $5 plants. She discovered 1" of so-called topsoil, and right below it, a five or six inch layer of polished river rocks, the size of your clenched fist. They're WONDERFUL! The pricey kind you get by the bushel from a nursery. I've hauled them away to my back yard, lest Manuel, our maintenance-guy think they're his job to move.
Got to thinking...... hm-m-m, I know this place, this 10 acres or so that these condos are on, was a brick yard, way-back-when.
But before that, way way way eons before that, this whole sharply declining terrain between two ridges was a rushing river bed! Boggles my thought, weak in geology as I am.
Put into perspective, what meaning has that power outage? Was it even a blip in the history of this place?
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