Fauna and flora in the pines.

My camera has a setting for pets. You just swing it around the room and when it recognizes an animal, it automatically takes a shot.

Tucker insisted I crop his outrageous obesity.

Ellen has more toes than Tucker has mealtimes.

Penny

Penny and Bob

Lilykins-Poo Honey Baby Kitty Peaches Gumby Poohead. You can tell she's oldest by her name.

 
Flagstaff has a Farmer's Market with actual farmers, none of whom you'll see here:

There had better be some biscuits in those bags, Mister.

Years ago, when the only organic produce I had ever seen came from GreenStar, I thought "organic" meant "overpriced and shrivelly." 
Later, we joined a CSA whose owners grew luscious and plentiful produce without chemicals (they couldn't call it Organic®, because years and dollars are required to buy into that trademark), and I got reillusioned. The CSA (and others in that area) also participate in Healthy Food For All, a program that subsidizes half the cost of a season's produce for low-income families.
Then there was the amazing produce our friends, Linda and Bill, grow veganically on their Unexpected Farm. They don't even use poop!
I do miss that particular connection to community. That sense that my food was growing in dirt three miles up the road from my house, and that the family who worked hard growing it was making a decent living.

This weekend: Art in the Park, at Wheeler Park, Flagstaff. To which we are going. There are more places to boondock around here than you can shake a pine bough at, so come on up! The weather's fine.