Peruvian Angles, Zephyr Winds And Is This Crow Actually A Raven?

 May 3, 2022

   Fourteen years ago this coming August, Kathy and I flew to Peru to visit our son, Tommy, who was in the Peace Corp. He was stationed in a high mountain village called Yanque. While there I got inspired to take a bunch of photos of the incredible, ancient adobe angles of the buildings, the alleys and the interiors with the intent of doing a series of paintings. Came home, got busy running a magazine and forgot all about it until three days ago when I ran across the reference photos and thought, Hey, these have some potential. 

Daily Whip Outs:

"Peruvian Angles Revisited"

   And, here is a photo Kathy took of me coming out of one of these incredible Peruvian doorways, within a doorway.

Peruvian Doorways

And yes, the wall is that blue!

   Speaking of adobe walls, here's another view of the big, fat crow in the crow's nest:

This just in from my border brother

   "Actually that’s probably a raven. They tend to travel solo or in pairs, crows tend to flock up more
and are seen in groups. Ravens are bigger as well, but who can tell when there’s only one. Around here in Baja Arizona we generally have Chihuahua Ravens. To confirm that one needs a good long look at said bird with good binoculars to get a good look at neck feathers. Here we assume all ravens are Chihuahua birds. They frequent my pond and pasture, often recycle old hawk’s nests."

—Greg Scott

The Winds of Change Are Upon Us

Daily Whip Out: "Dust Storm Troopers"

Daily Whip Out: "The Washoe Zephyr"

   "The 'Washoe Zephyr' (Washoe is a pet nickname for Nevada) is a peculiarly Scriptural wind, in that no man knoweth 'whence it cometh.' That is to say, where it originates. It comes right over the mountains from the West, but when one crosses the ridge he does not find any of it on the other side! It probably is manufactured on the mountaintop for the occasion, and starts from there. It is a pretty regular wind, in the summer-time. Its office-hours are from two in the afternoon till two the next morning; and anybody venturing abroad during those twelve hours needs to allow for the wind or he will bring up a mile or two to leeward of the point he is aiming at. And yet the first complaint a Washoe visitor to San Francisco makes, is that the sea-winds blow so, there! There is a good deal of human nature in that."

—Mark Twain, Roughing It

Daily Whip Out:

"Red Dust Over Blackhawk"

"There was a desert wind blowing that night.  It was one of those hot dry Santa Anas that come down through the mountain passes and curl your hair and make your nerves jump and your skin itch.  On nights like that every booze party ends in a fight.  Meek little wives feel the edge of the carving knife and study their husbands' necks.  Anything can happen.  You can even get a full glass of beer at a cocktail lounge."

—Raymond Chandler, Red Wind

September 26, 1948