Two weeks in a row of making a Santa Clarita bus run to my favorite swimming lake showed the nature of this odd time of the year known as August and, in a subset thereof, near the end of summer and, in a further subset, the careless if not carefree season. Sunday the 7th, on the way back, at the transit center where this and other buses dock for fifteen minutes for exchanges, we took on a good load including several young people coming off shifts at nearby Six Flags.

On the way to the stop where I park, we took on more and this gracious senior citizen, due in three weeks for the next Big Age in that status, got away with standing and offering his seat. On the 14th few of the amusement park indentured were at the transit center and none boarded. And only one stop was made prior to my usual with our light load.

Approaching the latter location I decided to pull the "cord". Come on, I thought, others always get off and there are always a handful waiting, probably going shopping at the end of this particular run. No, I was the only one off, and no one was waiting to board. The driver waited long enough that I drove by as he was taking off; maybe it was one of those "wait for the schedule" points.

The next stop was not far, but my face wouldn't have been red from the longer walk in the warming weather.

The last wiggle of summer, time for silliness, and in that vein I finally make my first blog entry in for the month. Now that I've established this twilight zone, a few more topics are forming like the Baja moisture fed clouds which form mashed taters over our otherwise jaded landscape.

More cracks to follow. And of this writing, clouds, where art thou? Sympathies with mentor for the enhanced humidity when they show.